Cut From the Same
by RenkonNairu
Summary: The Southern Isles send an ambassador to ease tensions between their two nations. But Elsa might have more in common with the ambassador than she thinks. In fact, she might even find that they're cut from the same cloth, so to speak.
1. Fire Prince

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter One: Fire Prince

As thirteenth in line for the throne of his own country, Hans of the Southern Isles hoped to claim a kingdom of his own by marrying into the royal family of Arendelle. But that didn't go over so well. Not well at all, in fact. Now he had to go home, a political criminal, and explain things to his brothers.

He supposed he should take it as a kindness that Willaham chose to hold his 'hearing', thus as it was, in a private and informal conference room rather than the Great Hall with full court present. Hans tried not to fidget under the intense scrutiny of ten of his twelve older brothers. Willaham glared at him from his place at the head of the long conference table.

To his right, Kurtz, his fourth eldest brother and also the Minister of Foreign Affairs read the full narrative of his dealings with Arendelle that was sent ahead of his ship. His brothers knew all that had happened before he even stepped off the ship.

On Willaham's left sat Conrart, the Secretary of Defense. He scrutinized Hans with every word. Seducing a princess, plans of usurping the throne, attempted murder of the Queen… Conrart looked at Hans as if he were a stinger he'd never met before yet was greatly offended by. Hans thought it was a bit ironic then, that Kurtz and their other brother Jovan were two of the three that pretended he was invisible for three years. Well, they sure as hell saw him now!

Dimitri sat beside Kurtz. As Treasurer, he was probably wondering how much it would cost to appease Arendelle.

Jovan, the Minister of Justice, sat with arms crossed, fingers tapping his forearm anxiously. Yuri, royal Cardinal and spiritual advisor to the King meditated, eyes closed, the only indication that he wasn't asleep was the slight fluttering of his lashes as Kurts read. Renard. Gunther. Sergei. Viktor. Almost all of his brothers sat around the conference table to learn what happened to him in that far away country to the north and to hear Willaham's judgment on him. The only two that were not in attendance were his eldest brother, Asher, the one who would have been King if he hadn't run away from home and joined a gang of pirates. And Morgan.

Asher's absence was to be expected. No one had seen or heard from him for years. But Morgan, his ninth older brother, was the Southern Isles' Minister of War. One would think that he would be at his hearing -informal though it was. Hans couldn't help but wonder if it was more worrisome for Morgan to be absent than it would have been for him to be present.

Kurts finished reading and set the paper down.

All eyes turned from Hans to Willaham.

The room was tensely silent.

Willaham sighed. "You couldn't have just run away and joined a pirate crew. That would have saved us all a headache. I want you to know, I seriously considered banishment as your punishment, Hans."

"You act like I invented some new crime." Hans said in his defense. "But Kings have been stealing thrones since the beginning of time! The worst thing I did was get caught!"

"No remorse, I see." Jovan leaned back in his seat. "Perhaps Will will make you live a year and a day at the monastery with Yuri. That seems an adequately cruel and unusual punishment."

"Perhaps for you." Yuri replied placidly. Sitting strait backed in his gray monk's robes, hands folded in his lap.

Willaham rapped his knuckles on the table for silence. Once again addressing Hans, he said, "You are being placed under house arrest. You will be taken to our mother's old summer retreat where you will stay indefinitely. You will have full run of the castle and grounds, but you cannot leave the property, all your letters and correspondences will be read before you send or receive them. If you object to this ruling, or step one foot beyond the estate grounds, you will be handed right back to Arendelle for the Queen and her sister to deal with you as they see fit. Do you understand, Hans?"

He gulped, imagining all the things Elsa could do to him with her magic. "Yes."

"Good." Willaham nodded. "Jovan will escort you there. But first, you're going to Feuer Island and explain yourself to Morgan."

Hans blinked in confusion. "Why?"

"As you said, Kings have been stealing thrones since the beginning of time." Explained Yuri, suddenly no longer looking placid and serene. "That's not really what we're angry over. Yes, you've made a mess for Kurtz to clean up and Conrart is going out of his mind worrying over magical attack-"

"I'm not going out of my mind."

"-but what really burns us, Hans, is what you did after you learned the Queen had magic. You still manipulated the sister, left her to die of the frozen heart, and tried to kill the Queen. You should have known better! You notice Morgan isn't here. He can't even stand to be in the same room with you right now. Jovan is gonna take you to mother's old estate where you're gonna stay and think about what you did! But before that, you're going to Feuer Island explain yourself to our _own_ magically gifted sibling!"

Hans swallowed hard. But knew that there was no way he could talk his way out of it. "As my lords please."

…

**Many Years Ago…**

It was one of the last nights of summer and what better thing was there to do than a beach bon fire!

It was originally Asher's idea -most of the activities that could get them all in trouble were Asher's idea. But Kurtz and Jovan, acting as Asher's little henchmen, somehow managed to rope the other ten of them into coming along. Sneaking out of the palace, they gathered on the beach and dug a shallow pit in the rocky sand. In their soon-to-be fire pit they piled dry grass and twigs beneath a lattus work of driftwood and small logs.

Hans sucked his thumb and looked at the drift wood. He and Yuri gathered most of it. As the two youngest, most of the unpleasant tasks and grunt work was shuffled onto them. Some of the driftwood was still wet and dripped down onto the kindling below.

"Its too wet." Hans informed them, taking his thumb out of his mouth just long enough to speak.

Unsurprisingly, nobody seemed to hear him. Or if they did hear him, they pretend they didn't. It was infuriating.

"I don't think the wood will catch." Renard commented. "The wood's too wet."

"That's what I said!" Hans grumbled indignantly, stamping his foot in the sand. But, once again, no one seemed to notice him.

"It'll light." Asher insisted. "Where's Morgan? Hey, Mor! Get over here and do the thing!"

Kurtz came up, practically _dragging_ Morgan by the arm. "Come on. Do the thing!"

Morgan ran a hand through his dark hair that seemed intent to defy the laws of gravity and grow upwards like a flame rather than lay flat against his head as hair should. He picked at his acne when he looked around at all of them, but it was Asher he spoke to when he said, "My mentor says the magic isn't for show-boating. Its a gift not to be taken lightly."

"Oh, come on, its just a bit of fun." Insisted Jovan. "Just do it! Do it. Do it. Do it"

Everyone else started chanting. "Do it. Do it. Do it!"

Even Hans joined in. He liked seeing Morgan do his magic. He and Yuri often snuck away from their governess to spy on him and his mentor practicing their arts. But mostly, Hans took up the chant just to feel like he was part of the group. "Do it. Do it. Do it!"

"Alright!" Morgan snarled. "I'll do the thing! Just step back."

Everyone took a single suspenseful step back from the wood they had piled. Morgan bent down and blew gently on the kindling. At first nothing happened. Then the dray grass and twigs began to smoke. Then a small flame leapt to life in the heart of the pile. It was a tiny thing, but it would be enough to catch the rest of the wood given enough time. But Asher was notoriously impatient.

"Aw, come on! You can do bette than that!" He whined.

"Alright, fine!" Morgan swung his hand at the wood, palm outward. Bright red sparks flew from his fingers and the wood burst into flames. Bright red and orange tongues of fire leaping into the sky, radiating heat all over the beach, illuminating their faces. "There! I did the thing. Are you happy?"

…

Hans was not happy.

He sat indignantly in a skiff, arms crossed over his chest, as two of Jovan's officers escorted him from the ship to the shore of Feuer Island. There was no dock on the island, the landscape changed to much, to often to make one practical. So, Jovan's ship couldn't pull into a harbor. Smoke rose from Brand Peak, the closest thing to a 'mountain' on the island and the Southern Isles only _active_ volcano. That by itself was indication that Morgan was home. Evan before Jovan's ship came close enough to see Morgan's yacht the _Morning Star_, Has saw the smoke rising from the mountain and knew that not only was his ninth brother home, but he was angry.

One of the officers pulled Hans to his feet while the other pulled the skiff up to a mostly stable looking ledge of jagged volcanic rock. It came up about a foot above the waterline and scrapped the side of the skiff. The officer holding Hans unfastened the wooden plank that shackled his hands and gave him a none to subtle shove towards the ledge.

"Not coming with?" He asked.

The officers gave him identical stony looks but said nothing. Neither did they make any indication of climbing out of the skiff. Then again, everyone who worked closely with any of the thirteen brothers knew not to bother number nine when he retreated to his citadel on Feuer Island. His powers were tied to his emotions and it was unwise to approach him until he calmed down. Not unlike Elsa and her ice abilities. The difference being that Hans knew how dangerous Morgan's fire powers where. He didn't know Elsa had magic too until Anna pushed her into revealing herself at the coronation ball. But he hadn't expected her ice to be as dangerous as it turned out to be. He thought he could handle it.

The thing was, he wasn't really all that wrong. He almost had handled it. He almost won. He had Elsa at his mercy out on the ice. Sword raised for the killing blow that would have made him King of Arendelle. It was actually Anna who defeated him. Not Elsa. If he had just made sure she was out of the way before leaving to dispatch the Queen, then he would not only be King right now, but a hero. A tragic hero who had lost the 'love of his life' to her own sister. It would have been a beautiful story instead of the ugly truth that it was.

Hans found a trail that might possibly have been a lava flow a few days ago. The trail had a slightly smoother texture than the rest of the rock around it and it seemed to _flow_ along the path of least resistance, making its way down to the shore. But it was not hot under his boots and so was confident that he wouldn't burn to death on his way to the citadel. So, he followed it up.

Like Elsa, Morgan built his fortress on the side of a mountain, near the peak. But while Elsa chose the highest and coldest mountain to the north, Morgan chose one that complemented his own powers, a living volcano. The smoke was thicker up near the peak.

The air filled with the acrid scent of burning rock. It stung Hans' eyes and scratched at his throat. He almost past the fortress.

Made from the dark volcanic glass, obsidian, it blended in with the smoke surrounding it so that Hans did not see it until he was almost right on top of it. His dry lava flow trail curving around it and continuing on up the peak to the lip of the lava that pooled there. He coughed a few times and picked his way carefully over the course and jagged rocks that separated him from the door. Anxious to get out of the smoke, Hans forwent the formality of knocking and pushed open the door and slipped inside.

The air was much clearer inside the citadel. But also much much hotter. Then again, Morgan liked things hot. Always had. Heat never bothered him.

"Hello." Hans called hesitantly. "Mor, its me. Will wanted me to come. I know you're home."

To spite the heat, it was relatively dark inside. Hans stumbled around in the dark for a few moments before every single wall-scone leapt to life, filling the chamber with light and even more heat. Hans wiped a trickle of west from his brow, and unbuttoned his waistcoat for the little relief it offered.

"Will thinks an explanation from you will settle me."

Hans turned around to see Morgan leaning against the frame of a door he knew lead out onto a ledge that overlooked the lava pool.

The older man glared at him, hazel eyes smoldering in the firelight so that they almost looked golden. Hair, the same color as coal, sticking up like a black flame.

He wore his 'Fire Prince' get up. Willaham and Yuri always thought it looked a bit over the top and theatric, but Asher and Kurtz loved it. Like Elsa formed a new raiment for herself, one better fitting to her affinity, so too did Morgan. Only while Elsa's was sleek and elegant, Morgan's was sharp and graceless. A bright crimson cape fastened over his bare chest with two iron chains, it draped just short of the floor behind him in uneven tatters as if the ends were burned. Around his wrists were iron gauntlets with jagged and _sharp_ flames rising up out of the metal. Round his waist was a leather belt with a large iron buckle that held up a pair of utterly tasteless leather chaps, beneath which he wore very unremarkable black trousers. His feet were bare.

Overall, Morgan looked more like a barbarian warlord than the Prince he was.

Hans shrugged off the waistcoat, and untied his cravat. It really was to damn hot in here. "What would you like me to explain, Mor?"

Morgan looked at him forlornly before turning his back on Hans and heading for another door. "Lets go down to the shore before you have a stroke."

Hans was lead out the back of the citadel where the rock of the mountain was carved into uneven but perfectly serviceable stairs that lead down to a rocky shore filled with tide pools. It was much cooler down here and less smoky. Hans was grateful for the repave. Hans dipped his cravat in the water and dapped his forehead with the moist cloth. Morgan sat on a rock and dipped his bare feet in the water. Steam rose where his skin touched the surface and the air was filled with a distinct hissing sound.

Neither brother said anything.

Hans likewise sat on a rock and began pulling his boot off to dip his feet in the water.

The silence was tense.

"Do you remember that one summer we all had that big bonfire on the beach?" Hans asked in an attempt to break the silence. "You were so reluctant to do your magic, but Asher twisted your arm. Asher was the heir, but you were always so much more special than him -than all of us really- because you can do something no one else can. Sometimes I think that's why he ran away. To be special. He'll always be the one who gave up the crown and became a pirate. Then Willaham became King instead and that's what makes him special. He's the second son who succeeded his brother. Then there's-"

"Was that it, then?" Morgan asked, cutting the younger man off mid-sentence. "You wanted to be special. The one who defeated the Snow Queen."

"No, I-" Hans paused to consider his own motives.

Originally it was just bedause he was tired of living under his brother's rule. He never went into the government as Demitri, Kurtz, Conrart, Jovan, and Morgan had. Niether did he feel any compelling call to join the faith as Yuri had. He was living as just another useless and unremarkable nobleman and royal relation. Such an existence might be enough for Renard, Gunther, Sergei, and Viktor. But Hans wanted more. He wanted a kingdom of his own.

But when it turned out that Elsa had magic like Morgan had magic, things became more complicated. In retrospect, Hans began to realize that maybe the payout wasn't worth the effort he had expended in his efforts to attain said kingdom and in the end it hadn't been enough either. So, if the kingdom wasn't worth the trouble, why'd he do it? For the glory? To be special? To be a legendary hero who defeated a winter witch? Maybe. As a thirteenth son, someone who was overlooked for most of his life, fame and glory sounded very appealing to him.

"The Queen of Arendelle is like me, Hans." He said. "She may not have the exact same power, but we're cast in the same forge. She and I have never met, but we are of the same kind. When Kurtz told us that you tried to kill her… it felt like you had done it to me."

"Mor, I-!"

"You did it to _me_, Hans!" The water around his ankles began to boil, so he withdrew his feet from the water. "I don't care that it was in another country a hundred _verst_ away! Or that it was a woman I have never met. She was one of my kind, Hans. She was like _me_. You did it to me!"

"Mor, I'm sorry."

Morgan began pacing back and forth. "I came here to try and get myself under control before I leave for Arendelle. Kurtz thinks it would be better if I was the diplomat instead of one of his regular ambassadors. He thinks because the Queen and I are of the same kind, I would have a better chance of keeping the peace with her than anyone else. I think he's an idiot and sending the War Chief to a peace talk is like using a sword to butter bread. Sure, you might get some butter on it, but you're more likely to louse your wrist in the process."

"Kurtz is sending you?" Hans couldn't believe it. He understood his brother's reasoning. Morgan had magic just like Elsa did, the two could bond over their shared gift-curses and form a strong bond of friendship between their two nations. But at the same time, Hans couldn't help bout think it was a stupid idea. Morgan's official title and job within the government was Minister of War. What kind of message did it send to appoint a war minister for peace talks. Elsa might hear his title and nothing else, shoot ice first and ask questions later. "And you agreed to go?"

"I believe my exact words were, 'get out of my way, Fart-Face, before I do the thing'. I was a little out of sorts at the time."

"So you didn't actually agree." Hans was relieved. As mad as his brother was at him right now, Morgan was one of the nice ones and he didn't want anything to happen to him. Elsa's ice could easily put out his fire and after the mess he'd left in Arendelle, Elsa might not take the mine to listen before she went on the offensive. She just might hear the words 'Southern Isles', 'Minister of War', and 'Hans' older brother' and go on the offensive.

"No." Morgan shook his head. "But I'll probably do it anyway. I haven't seen another like myself since my mentor left and from the sound of it, this Queen Elsa has _never_ met another like us. It would be nice to have a friend again." He looked over the sea, far off into the distance. Either imagining what Elsa looked like, or else remembering his old mentor. Then he looked back at Hans. "And you? What punishment had Will condemned you to?"

"House arrest." The younger man supplied. "I'm being send to Mother's summer home on Freja Island and I'm not allowed to leave the place indefinitely."

"Hm." Morgan turned and walked away without giving an opinion on that ruling.

Hans wished he would have said more. For the first time since his failed coup he was feeling remorse for what he did. Not because he nearly killed two innocent women or placed his country at odds with another. But because he hurt his brother. Might possibly even have lost his brother's love. Not because he tried to assassinate a Queen and take her kingdom, but because he'd tried to kill another magical person like himself.

"Morgan, I'm sorry." He shouted after the retreating red cape. "Really! I'm sorry I hurt you."

…

Arendelle's trade embargo hurt Wesleton more than the Duke let on.

While the Duke's interest in their neighbor was purely profitable, Wesleton as a whole's interest was far more base. The King of Weselton was ill and had been for many years. The only thing that seems to ease his symptoms was a draft made from a moss that only grew in Arendelle's Valley of Living Rocks. Always being such a mysterious and secretive country, Wesleton never learned what it was about the Valley that made the moss so special or so potent. All they knew was that they needed it and that Arendelle had it.

But now they would never get it again. Not through trade anyway. That rout was closed to them thanks to the Duke's bungling.

But the King was still ill and needed it. So, the Queen of Wesleton was determined to get it by other means. If Arendelle would not trade for it, then they would just roll in and take it!

The only problem was that Queen of theirs. The Snow Queen, Elsa. Whom possessed a powerful and terrible power to summon ice and snow with a flick of her wrist. She could crush Wesleton's navy in a single day. Summon her own fleet of icebergs and smash each ship like a walnut. No, Wesleton couldn't fight Arendelle alone. They would need an ally.

"The answer lies in the Southern Isles, my Queen." The mousy Duke informed her, desperate to garner back his favor. "The Snow Queen deported the young Prince of the Southern Isles and branded him a political criminal. He has as much reason to hate Elsa of Arendelle as we do. Through him we can convince his elder brother, King Willaham, to join our cause against the Icy Tyrant!"

The Queen of Wesleton smiled, but it was not a cheerful or even warm smile. It was a dangerous almost predatory barring of her teeth in the parody of a smile. "Very well, Duke. Since you already have experience with this common enemy, I will make you the ambassador to the Southern Isles. But if you fail again, not only will you have fallen out of favor with this court, but I will strip you of your title and all your wealth and gift it to someone who does _not_ fail me. Do you understand?"

The Duke of Wesleton gulped. "Yes, Your Majesty."

…

The _Morning Star_ was a small yacht, the kind that could be sailed by only one man. Morgan liked it that way. The fewer people on his boat, the less likely someone would get burned. But a Prince never traveled alone. Neither did ambassadors for that matter. _And_ Morgan had absolutely no diplomatic training to speak of. So, Kurtz sent him along with three other dignitaries from his own pool of interns. Their job was simple, 'don't let the Fire Prince make an ass of himself unwittingly'.

They were there to correct his etiquette and manners. Don't salute, she's not a general. You're not bowing low enough, she's a Queen you're just a Prince, her station is above yours, show the proper respect. Now you're bowing to low, it is a mockery of her station. Etc. Mogan felt like he was a boy again being chastised by one of his tutors. There was a reason his parents stopped his royal training and gave him over to his mentor when he entered his adolescents.

He spent six days practicing how to bow, memorizing when it was appropriate to make eye-contract, when it was not. Now, finally, the Morning Star was less than a day from Arendelle's harbor. They could see the North Mountains rising up above the sea in the distance, growing ever nearer.

Morgan barricaded himself in his Captain's Quarters, not just to get away from Kurtz's insufferable diplomats, but also to try and get his own appearance under some semblance of control. As his brothers -all twelve of them- often reminded him, he did look a bit like a barbarian warlord. The 'fire lord' costume had to go. Normal cloths were in order. Black trousers and matching jacket, a deep crimson waistcoat, white shirt, and yellow cravat. How the hell did you tie a cravat!? Damn it! How did Hans ever manage to master this?

After a few moments of fighting with the decretive neck ruffle, Morgan gave up. One of the diplomats would do it for him the moment he stepped out on to the deck. (Either that, or faint from the shame of a Prince of the Southern Isles not knowing how to tie a simple cravat.)

Next was his hair. Defying gravity and sticking up like tongues of black flame might be its natural state, but it just wasn't presentable for an ambassador to a tense nation. The hair would have to come down somehow. He tried taming it with shoe polish, wood oil, and anything else that seemed liquify enough to comb through his hair but heavy enough to hold it down. In the end, the thing that worked was whale butter and he made a mental note to take a jar of it to shore with him.

He was about to step out onto the deck when he remembered shoes. Normal people wore shoes. He fished around in his quarters until he found a pair of riding boots that seemed to match adequately enough. The diplomats would probably have a thing or two to day about wearing riding boots with formal clothes but Morgan chose not to care. He stepped out onto the deck and got his first glimpse of the Arendelle he'd heard so much about.

…

(A/N: "**verst" **is an obsolete Russian measurement of distance. Roughly 1.0668 kilometers. Since Frozen had a very Scandanavian/Russian/Germanic flavor to it, I am mixing bits of language, culture, and names from all three. )


	2. Shifting Breeze

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Two: Shifting Breeze

"Olaf, where's my throne?" Elsa asked in confusion upon entering the Great Hall. Anna's chair was right there, situated on the right side of the dais -om the Queen's right hand- as it always hand been. But the Queen's chair, the throne, was absent. There was only an empty space where the chair should go. Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, expecting an answer from the diminutive snowman standing off to the side.

"Oh. Oh! That was my idea! Sorry!" Anna came running in though a side door, carrying a pink cushion in her arms and nearly tripping over her skirts as she did so.

Kristoff entered after her, dressed him what Elsa assumed was probably his very best suit, though it still fell short of what was usually considered presentable at court. She thought his association with Anna would have ended once he was given his new sleigh to replace the one destroyed during their journey up the North Mountain to see her. But Anna and Kristoff seemed to be speeding more and more time together. It was becoming rare to see one without the other.

"I told you she wouldn't go for it." Kristoff remarked, stopping just inside the Hall.

"Go for what?" Demanded the Queen. "Standing when I meet the ambassador?"

"No, no." Insisted Anna, holding out the pink cushion. "I though it would be a subtile display of power if you made a throne of ice for yourself. Something big and dangerous looking, but pretty. To show the Southern Isles ambassador that you are strong and you have power and we're not gonna forgive them so easily for what their Prince did. So you can lay down the rules and tell 'em how its gonna be!"

Elsa raised one snow-white eyebrow.

"Oh, and this is so your butt doesn't hurt." Anna passed the cushion to her sister. "'Cause ice is hard. But I didn't need to tell you that. You know ice is hard, being the Snow Queen and all. Heh."

The protest was on the edge of Elsa's lips when a page poked his head through the large double doors of the Great Hall to announce that the diplomatic party form the Southern Isles had arrived. So, instead of denying Anna's suggestion outright, she grabbed the pillow out of her sister's hands. The younger woman hadn't exactly given her much time for any other option. "Fine. A throne of ice it is then. Step back."

She tucked the cushion under one arm and rubbed her hands together until blue and white sparkled began to glitter around them. Then she pointed to the empty place where her throne normally rested and a fountain of ice erupted there. Climbing, twisting and forming into an elegant chair with wide, curved armrests, a high back with three sharp spires and one large snowflake as center piece. That done, she tossed the pink cushion on the seat and sat down.

"You should make a scepter too!" Anna clapped excitedly.

"Sit down, Anna." Elsa barked.

The younger woman sighed in defeat and took her place at her sister's side.

"Send them in." Elsa commanded.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting of the ambassador. But it wasn't what walked though the door. He was not overly tall, but had an air about him that made him _seem_ tall -imposing. He had the same brow as Hans, but the eyes were a different color, a deep smoldering hazel with flecks of brown, copper and gold. When the light hit them right is looked almost like they were lit by an inner flame. It was disarmingly hypnotic. Likewise, he had the same high cheekbones as Hans, but his jaw was more squared, his chin less sharp with a strong cleft in his chin. His dark hair was greased back away from his face, giving his features a predatory, almost feral look.

Elsa fought a flush she felt rising to her cheeks. It was obvious this man was one of Hans' elder brothers, she was _not_ going to flush for one of that man's relations. It was they who had wronged her and her family. It was them whom had to appease her. In this situation, she held the power and she was not going to give it up by flushing at the sight of their representative.

"Presenting Prince Morgan, Minister of War of the Southern Isles." Announced the Master of Ceremonies.

Elsa's eyes narrowed at his title. Was this a formal declaration of war then? She sent Hans home and he convinced his brothers that he did nothing wrong that she was the bully that had to be punished. Perhaps Anna's idea of displaying her power wasn't such a bad idea.

Prince Morgan stopped the appropriate five paces from the bottom step of the dais and stared up at her as if examining something new and exciting but also also cautiously, after all, she was dangerous and he knew it. One of his attendants behind him hissed for the Prince to bow and he did so awkwardly.

"Minster," Elsa began, "I'm confused. Did you come here for peace talks or a declaration of war?" She waved her hand casually, forming a scepter of ice in her hand. Childish as Anna's suggestion seemed, a display of power might just discourage any thoughts of attack from the enemy war minister. Either that, or give him a glimpse of what he was up against and how to prepare for it. She pointed the scepter at him. "Be aware that while Arendelle would prefer to keep up peaceful relations with the Southern Isles, we are not a weak nation and will defend our borders and our people."

The Prince lifted his eyes to meet hers, those hazel eyes shining in the summer light streaming in through the high windows. "We have parallel purposes, then. My brother the King sent me because he thought it would mean more coming from the Minister of War when I saw, that a battle between our two nations is the _last_ thing anyone wants. I'm here to apologize for my younger brother and assure you that he has been punished and I hope the peace between us can continue."

Fore a moment, Elsa feared she was hypnotized by those hazel eyes but she quickly willed herself out of it. She was in charge here. Elsa layed the ice scepter in her lap, folding her hands over it in deceptive modesty. "You're quite charming, War Minister. But as I recall, so to was your brother and we all know how that turned out. I will accept no apologies and make no pelages of everlasting friendship between our nations until you can prove your and your country's seniority."

"Yeah!" Olaf spoke up. Poking his head out from behind Elsa's Ice Throne and waddling down the steps of the dais to glare up at the Prince. "We don't trust you, bud die!"

The Prince, for his part, starred in shock and alarm at the diminutive little snowman. He took a step back, blinking in disbelief. "You- you're a snowman? But- but how-?"

"Duh. Elsa made me." Olaf sighed in exasperation as if the ambassador was an idiot for not being able to figure out facts that seemed obvious to him.

"My sister is very powerful." Anna added. Throwing in a smug smile. As if to say, go ahead and try something. We'll kick your butt and send you packing same as your treacherous brother and your country will never have a peace with us.

The Prince seemed not to hear her. He studied Olaf. "And you're sapient? You think and feel and- and… I never even thought about…" He was babbling to himself which Elsa found amusing. It was rather pleasing to see the Prince of the Southern Isles so out of sorts at the sight of what the people of Arendelle have already grown accustomed to and felt was normal and natural. Only slightly different from a normal citizen. Morgan looked back up at Elsa as if seeing her for the first time and being awed by what he saw. "You are even more remarkable than I thought, Queen Elsa."

"Yeah, my sister's pretty amazing." Anna nodded, kicking her feet and rustling her skirts.

Elsa silence her with a look. If you can't act mature I will make you leave. To the Prince she said, "You are welcome to stay here, Minister, as long as you like. I will have the staff make up rooms for yourself and your party. But be warned, your brother has left us suspicious and wary. If you do anything I deem 'unsafe' for Arendelle, my sister, or myself, I will ship you back to your own country faster than you can say 'frozen'."

Morgan nodded, once again bowing to the Queen. "I understand and accept your terms, Your Majesty."

…

The Duke of Wesleton's ship pulled into the harbor of Insel, the capitol city of the Southern Isles. The Duke glared up at the palace which rested upon a cliff overlooking the harbor and wondered if his soon to be ally, Prince Hans, was brooding within.

Hans had as much reason to hate Arendelle and their tyrannical Snow Queen as much as the Duke did. Together, he was sure they could convince King Willaham to sign a war treaty with Wesleton. With two kingdoms united, they would surly be able to match the Icy Tyrant's magic. They were island people. Accustomed to the ever changing moods of the seas and the violent and fiery tempers of the volcanos that formed their archipelago. A paradoxical people caught between fire and water. And their war minister, Prince Morgan, was rumored to be a genius with using the former as a weapon.

There was once a time, the Duke heard, that the Southern Isles were threatened by invasion from the barbarians of Germania. But the War Minister fashioned weapons of oil and fire for his navy. They flung them from their ship and onto the boats of their enemies. The whole Germanian horde burt to ash upon the water.

Such a clever and innovative man was exactly what Wesleton needed on their side. Elsa's ice magic was no match for a clever man who knew how to wield his enemy's weakness. Fire would be the weakness to ice, and the Duke already knew the Southern Isles' war minister knew how to use it. If he shared that knowledge and technology with Wesleton's navy, then Arendelle would have no choice but to surrender. Elsa would be deposed. Trade would open up again. The King would once again have the moss from the Vally of the Living Rocks. And the Duke would be the one to bring it to him.

That should restore his favor at court. He would return to Wesleton a hero!

Once the ship was moored, the Duke could not disembark fast enough. He was anxious to find Hans and discuss their plans of revenge.

But it was not a warm welcome he received upon arriving at the palace. Polite, yes. Welcoming, no.

He was detained at the gates for several moments as he tried to explain, several times to the guards that he had pressing and important business with Prince Hans. This did not seem to impress the guards one bit. In fact, they rather looked suspicious and ever so slightly confused. After the conversation dragged on longer than it should have and threatened to turn into an argument, someone in a position of authority arrived to take charge.

Prince Conrart, Secretary of Defense for the Southern Isles appeared and invited the Duke to share tea in his office. Well, it wasn't the brother he was hoping for, but it would get him inside the palace.

"Tea would be lovely!"

He was finally lead into the palace, and up to a surprisingly claustrophobic office with a tall window overlooking the harbor. Prince Conrart sat behind a desk stacked with maps and documents. Some of which he recognized as the Isles and Arendelle. Others he'd never seen before. The papers sported key words like 'entry point', 'weak front' and 'buffer zone'. Apparently, the Southern Isles were already planning to defend themselves against a heavy siege. Could they already be planning to go to war with the Ice Witch? Oh, this was better than the Duke hoped!

The Prince picked up his documents by the stack and set them unceremoniously on the floor to make space on his desk for the tea tray which had just arrived being carried by a plump looking woman in a maid's uniform.

"Thank you, Gurtrid, that will be all." The Prince dismissed her. He waited until the door was closed behind her before leaning over the desk and asking, almost conspiratorially, "So, I understand that you were also involved in my brother's little fiasco."

"I was present for it, if that's what you mean." The Duke replied, trying to distance himself from any active involvement in the events. For some reason he preferred the idea of himself as an observer rather than a participant in the attempted murder of the Ice Witch. To spite the fact that he flat out told both his body guards to put an end to her winter -permanently. But the Duke pushed the thought from his mind and pored himself a cup of tea, adding two sugars, taking a sip to fast it, then adding a third.

"I see…" Prince Conrart sipped his own tea and drummed his fingers on the desk idly. "And what business do you have with my brother?"

"I witnessed the Snow Queen's treatment of him and I was curious after his health. After all, the woman nearly killed her own sister with her monstrous power. I can only imagine what she's done to the man who actually wronged her." Yes, put the idea of Elsa being a danger to them before he and Hans even bring the proposal to the King. Have them warm up to the idea before its even suggested. That was the best way to do things.

Conrart drummed his fingers on the desk again. "Hans seemed fine enough to me when he arrived home. Besides, he recently visited… someone who should have been able to identify any lasting magical effects. I'm confident my brother is fine. But if you still want to see him, I'm sorry to tell you that he's not here."

"Oh." The Duke said in disappointment. "Then where has he gone?"

Prince Conrart, Secretary of Defense of the Southern Isles sipped his tea casually. But it was with a serious and sober voice that he said, "For crimes that placed this kingdom in danger from another nation, my brother has been placed under arrest."

"W-what!?" The Duke was so shocked and he bolted to his feet, knocking his chair to the floor in the process. "But- I don't understand. He's your brother! Why would you arrest him for something that happened beyond your borders?"

"For something that happened beyond our borders that could place all the people _within_ our borders in danger if our ambassador is unsuccessful in placating the Queen."

Taking a moment to recompose himself the Duke righted his chair and sat back down. "I… see… But, I am still concerned over his health and would like to pay him a visit. Prisoners are still allowed visitors, even in jail. Might I know where he's been taken?"

…

It was a little late now, but Hans was beginning to realize that Anna had some wonderful ideas. Great ways to pass the time while locked behind closed doors.

The first time she took him sliding across the floors in his socks was terrifying because he had no idea what he was doing, did not trust his balance, and was sure he was going to crash face first into something and ruin his nose. But now, getting a running start and sliding through his own halls, Hans had to admit, it really was fun. It was a sort of childish, innocent fun. The kind that adults didn't really consider or indulge in.

Throwing his arms out in front of him, he stopped himself just before his face hit a portrait of his mother. Turned his back to the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. A goofy smile on his face.

The smile was short lived, however, when he remembered why he was here. What he had done. And why.

Anna had been nothing but a tool to him. A means to an end. But now that it was over and done with and he had nothing but time to think on what he's done, he realized that he wasted a glorious opportunity to be with a fun and fantastic woman. She wasn't all that younger than him, but she had a child-like innocents that made her seem younger. At the time, that naiveté irritated him, grating on his nerves. But now he found himself missing her childish games and easy smiles. Skating across the wood floors in their socks, sliding down the bannisters, playing hide-and-seek with the stable doors.

It was fun.

And Hans missed it. He missed Anna. He didn't love her at the time, probably still didn't love her now, but he missed her. He missed her smiles and her awkwardness. Her games and her love of life. She spent almost her whole life locked away in a castle, cut off from the rest of the world, yet she didn't fear other people as her sister did. Instead she embraced everyone. Every stranger was a potential friend to her. At the time he thought it was just desperation to be loved, and maybe it was. But it was also because she was just an open and caring person. She had so much love to give, she just didn't know who to give it to. And he tricked her into giving it to him.

Hans slid down the banister, throwing his arms up at he did so. She told him it was more fun that way.

But things were more fun when she was around. He really messed up.

"Oof!" He hit the floor at the foot of the stairs harder than he meant to. Maybe throwing your arms us wasn't such a wise idea if you weren't used to this.

What should he do now?

True, the shamed Prince did have free run of all the grounds. He could go outside if he wanted to, just so long as he didn't try to leave the property. It was a lovely sunny day. Mid-summer. Hot and bright with a cool breeze coming from the sea to the north. The idea of going outside did sound appealing, but Hans knew the moment he felt that cool, gentle breeze he would think of Arendelle, or Queen Elsa, and of Anna.

Morgan and the others were punishing him for his attempted murder of Elsa, the magical sister. Because they also had a magical brother and took it as a betrayal when he tried to kill another such magical person. '_You did it to _me_, Hans!_' And he was sorry for that. Not for the actual attempt on Elsa's life, but for hurting his brothers by doing so. But what he was really starting to feel remorse for was not what he did to the elder sister, but rather the younger. Hans never met anyone like Anna before and it seemed like now he would never meet anyone like her again. So energetic and enthusiastic.

It figured. It wasn't until after he'd already betrayer her, tried to kill her sister, and lost any and all chance of having her, that Hans realized he wanted Anna in his life.

The butler approached him as he was leaning against the bannister, dwelling on how he had messed up. Hindsight vision is flawless, as they say.

"Pardon me, Your Highness." Said the butler. "But there is a Duke of Wesleton here to see you."

The Duke of Wesleton? That mousy little man he met in Arendelle. The one who protested his passing out of blankets and cloaks and keeping the palace open to dispense hot soup and drinks. What in the world would that greedy little miser want with him?

Curious, Hans pushed off from the bannister. "I'll meet with him."

The Duke was waiting for him in a parlor that overlooked the inlet that cut into Freja Island from the sea. He stood looking out the window, his back to Hans, hands clasped behind his back.

Hans cleared his throat for attention. "You wanted to see me?"

The Duke turned around and smiled, making his thick mustache raise in an almost comical fashion. "Prince Hans, we met in Arendelle. I'm pleased to see you're in good health."

"I remember you." Hans said, not returning the man's smile. He remembered how the Duke protested his efforts to help Arendelle's people and how his bodyguards diverted from his plan and tried to kill the Queen before he was ready to have her out of the way. At the time, he wanted to be the one to defeat her. He had to be the hero. The Duke and his guards interfered with that goal. Hans decided that he did not like this man one bit.

"Then you also remember that we both suffered at the hands of the Winter Witch of Arendelle!" The Duke stamped his foot dramatically. "At first I met with one of your brothers, but he seemed under the illusion that a peace could be struck between your two countries. But you and I both know that peace with Arendelle's Icy Tyrant is impossible! I'm here to urge you to speak to your brothers. Make them understand the Queen's evil and that peace can only be had once her kingdom is razed to the ground, her trade routs under the capable stewardship of someone our two nations deem worthy."

Hans raised an eyebrow, remembering the Duke's greed and obsession with Arendelle's tradable goods. "And would that person be you?"

"Or yourself." The Duke suggested. "After all, didn't you go to Arendelle in the first place to claim a kingdom of your own? Once the Queen and her sister are out of the way, the crown could be yours! Just don't forget who helped you to it."

A kingdom all his own. It was exactly what Hans always wanted. A crown. To be lord of his own house and no longer live in his brothers' shadows. But… The Queen and her sister had to moved out of the way first. The Queen and her sister… and her sister.

Hans imagined that glowing smile. Those bright, inventing eyes. That vivacious and fun loving personality. Sliding along the floors in their socks, or down the bannisters with her arms up in the air. Playing hide and seek with the doors in the stables. Dancing in the lighthouse. Watching the stars on the roof… Anna would have to be moved out of the way, same as Elsa, before he could claim their kingdom. Did he want a crow that much?

A few weeks ago, the answer was 'Yes!' He did want a crown that much. He had no problems killing two innocent women to get what he wanted. But now…

He was still willing to go through with it when Anna came to him begging for a kiss. It was easy. Just leave her to die of a frozen heart. Do nothing and let Elsa's magic do his job for him. Simple.

But now… Now, after he's had time to think on the events that transpired in Arendelle. On the part he played in them. On what he did to those sisters. And most of all, Anna's bright big eyes when they first met, and the way they fell, the light fading from them at his betrayal. Could he betray her again?

It wouldn't come as such a shock to her this time. This time she would be expecting him to be a villain. But was that what he wanted to be.

Perhaps he was thinking about this the wrong way. It didn't matter what he thought he could or couldn't do. What mattered was whether or not he could convince Willaham to go to war with Arendelle. Hans was confident that he could not. WIllaham and all his elder brothers already decided that he was in the wrong and the sisters of Arendelle were the victims. They would not go to war for him. He wouldn't be able to convince them. He was not the victim.

"No." Hans shook his head. "It will never work. Willaham won't go for it. Maybe if Elsa had killed me. But not as things stand right now."

There was a beat of silence.

"I see." The Duke looked thoughtful. Hans quickly decided he did not like that look.

…

Morgan leaned against the courtyard wall, lurking under the canopy. He watched the people of Arendelle skate on a sheet of ice created by their Queen. Ice in the middle of summer. He never would have imagined it. Morgan almost wanted to join them. But he learned years ago that ice skating was not meant for him.

He snuck up to the ice's edge, using one of the support pillars that held up the canopy to conceal himself, he stepped one tone onto the beautiful sparkling ice. There was a distinct hissing sound and when he withdrew his foot, there was a small puddle melted into the sheet. Yup. Skating was definitely not for him.

"What are you up to, buddy?" The living snowman, Olaf, came up behind him. Nearly causing the prince to jump out of his skin.

An unlit wall scone behind the magical frost creature suddenly blazed and the Prince quickly stifled it before someone noticed. He came here planning to reveal his gift to the Queen, but he did not intend to make a public spectacle of himself. "Hello, Olaf." He smiled. "You're not skating with the others?"

"Don't get cute with me, bucko." He pointed one of his twig-like arms up at the Prince. "I still don't trust you. What are you doing here, hiding in the shadows like some… some big, dark, scary, hiding person! What have you got to hide, hm?"

Lots of things, Morgan smiled to himself. But nothing that he was about to tell an animated ball of snow. "Skating's just not for me." He said. "But its nice to watch. The people seem so happy here. To spite the recent fiasco with her powers, the people seem to love their Queen."

"Mm." Olaf smiled, turning his attention from the Prince to the people gliding over the ice. Near the fountains, Kristoff was spinning Anna while the Princess laughed and shrieked with glee. "Love keeps the heart warm."

"And keep it cool." Morgan added.

"Huh?" The snowman looked up at him in confusion.

Morgan thought about Hans and how angry his little brother made him. He was ready to just let Brand Peak blow its top when he learned what the little thumb-sucker had done. But as angry as Hans made him, he was still his baby brother and he loved him. That love cooled his burning rage enough for him to regain his self-control. Enough control to compose himself for this very trip. "Love can also sooth a burning heart."

"Huh." The snowman looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess." A pause. Then that wooden finger was being jabbed up at him again. "But don't think for a moment that I'm starting to trust you, buster! I got my eyes on you."

His suspicion and concern was a little annoying but it was also cute, almost endearing. "I will keep that in mind."

Morgan turned and was about to walk away when he nearly bumped directly into the antlers of a reighndeer. "Woah!"

The reighndeer glared at him. Snorting with distaste.

"Did I mention Sven will be watching you too?" Olaf added. "We have appointed ourselves the Princess Protection Detail, the PPD. So watch out!"

…

It was a wonderful thing to be accepted -even loved- by the people of Arendelle. But she still wasn't used to the attention. After spending almost her whole life barricaded behind locked doors, Elsa grew nervous easily. After maintaining the ice in the courtyard for a few hours, she retreated back to her own chambers, closing the door behind her as she was used to.

Outside was wonderful. Bright and sunny. Full of happy people and smiling faces. But it was still new and unfamiliar. That made it uncomfortable. But in here, safe behind her doors, this was familiar. This was comfortable.

She selected a book off he shelf and reclined by the window. Outside the palace staff worked with buckets and mops to clean up the puddles left behind by her festivities. The water would be reused tomorrow when she once again made the skating rink for everyone. No need for waste. When it became to dirty to make an attractive ice sheet anymore, it would be used to water the gardens.

Elsa cracked open her book, but before she could read even a single word, there was a knock at the door.

"Not right now, Anna. I'm tired. We'll play again tomorrow." She called, turning back to her book.

"I'm not Princess Anna." Replied a male voice.

Elsa started. The last man to be in her chambers was her father. Her heart raced with sudden nerves. She'd never been alone with a man before. (Unless being locked in her own dungeons with Hans counted, which Elsa decided it did not.) Frost formed over the window by which she sat. This was new and uncharted territory for her and Elsa suddenly realized she had no idea what to do.

"A gentleman would identify himself." She called, hoping she didn't sound to nervous or shrill.

"Prince Morgan of the Southern Isles." The voice supplied dutifully.

Oh. Him. Elsa's sudden anxiety melted away and turned to annoyance. She had already dealt with him. What did he want now? "I have already retired for the afternoon, Minister." She said. "If you have further matters to discuss with me, I hold audiences in the mornings from nine to eleven-thirty. You may speak your peace then."

She turned back to her book, content that she had dealt with the situation adequately. Hm. And she thought she didn't know how to handle a man at her door. Just tell him to take a hike. That was a lot easier than she thought.

"What I have to tell you, I'd rather say behind closed doors."

He wasn't leaving? Grr! What was so important? No. Nope. She was not going to indulge him. The fact that he was Hans' brother was reason enough not to open the door for him. But he was also interrupting her reading time! He was no gentleman.

"Actually, it might be better if I show you."

...


	3. Tea Cup

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Three: Tea Cup

'_Willaham won't go for it. Maybe if Elsa had killed me. But not as things stand right now._' Those were Prince Hans' exact words and the Duke took them to heart. King Willaham of the Southern Isles won't go to war with Arendelle. Not the way things turned out. Not with his brother so clearly in the wrong and the sisters so clearly painted as the victims. Maybe if Elsa killed Hans instead of deporting him.

And _that_ was the answer. That was what to the Duke had to do to convince the Southern Isles to take up the cause. As he told his own Queen before leaving Wesleton, Prince Hans would be the key to the Southern Isles' cooperation and support in their siege of Arendelle. At the time, the Duke planned for the Prince to be his political ally. To talk to his brother the King and convince him of the Ice Witch's evil. Now the Duke knew that wasn't going to happen. But the Prince could still be of use to him. Hans could still deliver the Southern Isles' military to Wesleton.

All the Duke had to do was kill Prince Hans and make it look like the Icy Tyrant was responsible.

The question then became, how was he to do this since he had no magic of his own?

The easy answer was to seek out another ice witch. But aside from the fact that the Duke knew of no such witches, he was also leery of soliciting them for their services. Even before his experience in Arendelle, the Duke was distrustful and suspicious of magic makers. The events with Elsa only reenforced these beliefs. A witch or other magic maker could not be trusted. He would have to seek another avenue for framing the Snow Queen.

An apothecary perhaps? Maybe there was such a thing as a 'freezing draught' that could mimic the effects that Elsa's ice powers had on people. Or an alchemist. Maybe there was a way to transmute the effects of a frozen heart. The Duke decided he would explore both options.

He did not know much about where to find such things within the Southern Isles. Every town had at least one apothecary, just like every down had at least one surgeon, butcher, baker, forester, woodcutter, etc. But the trick wasn't just to find an apothecary, but to find one of loose moral fiber whom was willing to brew poisons and potions for the right price. The same went for an alchemist. It wasn't so much a matter of finding one, but rather finding the _right _one.

Luckily, the Duke had two able-bodied, resourceful, and highly persuasive men at his disposal. Men whom were there with him in Arendelle and witnessed the Winter Witch's evil. He could send on in one direction and the other in the other direction. They knew what to look for and -if they knew what was good for them- wouldn't come back until they got it.

"A draught that will duplicate Elsa's 'frozen heart' attack." He snapped his fingers. "I don't want to see either of you again until you find it! Go!"

…

The door was yanked open, rather violently and Morgan had to take a step back as a gust of cool air rushed out of the room.

"What!?" Demanded Queen Elsa. "What could possibly be so important that you can neither wait until my regular audience hours nor can be spoken in front of others?"

"Well, I-" Morgan fumbled. He had never actually said the words 'I have magic' to anyone before. They had always either always known, as in the case of his parents and elder brothers. Or found out by witnessing his remonstrant said powers as in the case of his younger brothers, their immediate attendants and staff, and his mentor. Not once did Morgan ever have to verbalize the burning power that coursed through him.

"Well you what?" Demanded the Snow Queen. "Make it quick, Minister. Its best not to keep me waiting. Remember, you're here to placate me after your brother's attempt on not only my life and my throne, but also my sister's life, innocents, and heart. Its best not to vex me further."

She did make a very valid point.

The Southern Isles, and himself by extension, were already skating on thin ice (no pun intended) with this woman. It was not in his best interest to take forever with his declaration and try her patience. "I just thought you would want to know that- um, that you and I are the same. I mean, not exactly the same. Polar opposites in fact. But we're still the same. Cast in the same forge or- or cur from the same cloth."

The Queen raised a single snowy white eyebrow. "You're not making sense, Minister. How can two things be polar opposites yet exactly the same. You're just wasting my time. Good day."

She made to shut the door.

He jammed his foot in the door before she could. "Wait!"

"What are you doing!?" She demanded, suddenly looking very alarmed.

"I need you to know!" Morgan insisted.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and frost formed on the doorframe and handle. "Prince Morgan, Minister of War for the Southern Isles, I should not need to tell you that you are attempting to force your way into a lady's private chambers which is not only the epitome of ungentlemanly behavior, but also the act of a _scoundrel_. I see now that you're no different than your brother. Now please remove your foot or I shall remove it for you!"

"Its not like that!" Morgan insisted. Well aware that he already messed up fantastically and at a loss as to how to improve things.

"Get back!" That command was punctuated by a wave of cold air, frost and hale being blasted at his mid-section.

Morgan flew backwards a few paces. When he recovered the door was already slammed shut and Elsa was in the process of locking it.

"No, wait!" He threw his hand up at the sound of a key clicking in a lock. An arrow of flame shooting out of his hand unbidden. Damn it! He hated it when his powers did that.

The arrow found its mark right dead center of the door handle on his side, turning the metal red hot. There was a startled and slightly panicked yelp from the other side and the whole door froze over with a single solid sheet of ice. Damn. Well, he'd really done it this time. Maybe he shouldn't have accepted Kurtz request and come here as the Southern Isles' representative. He had no diplomatic training and only seemed to be making things worse.

Morgan climbed to his feet and knocked on the ice sheet that covered her door. Each rap of his knuckles causing melted droplets to trickle down the ice. "Your Majesty?" He called through the door. "Elsa, are you alright? Sorry about that. Sometimes it does things on its own without me wanting it to. The magic, I mean. My magic. It does things when I'm angry, or stressed, or frustrated. I didn't burn you to bad, did I? Elsa? Your Majesty?"

Behind the ice sheet the door once again opened and the blurry, distorted figure of the Snow Queen once again appeared. "You did that?"

Morgan nodded, not sure how clearly she could see him though her sheet of ice. "Unintentionally. But, yes."

"With magic?" She pressed.

In answer to that, he placed one hand at her eye-level on the ice and let the heat flow out of him, melting a hole in her barrier just being enough for them to speak face to face. His hazel eyes locked with her crystal blue ones when he said, "Yes."

…

The Duke tossed the bottle up in the air with glee. Catching it in his hand, he brought it close to his eyes and gazed at the clear, faintly blue, liquid within.

"Oh-ho, splendid. Splendid." He smiled, giving the big mustached man a congratulatory pat on the backside. "And you're sure it will work?"

The bodyguard was about to respond with instruction given to him by the apothecary. Mix it with a little bit of tea, use sugar to conceal the flavor and the drinker should be dead within a few days. Repeat dosage will cause a sooner death. Signs that its working will be symptoms of hypothermia. Shivering, clumsiness, slurred speech or mumbling, etc. It was not exactly like the 'frozen heart' that Princess Anna suffered at the hands of her sister, but it was as close as a non-magical person could come.

The mustached guard did not get to vocalize any of this, however, as the Duke waved his hand dismissively and continued with his triumphant rant. "Of course it should. I have absolute faith in you! Oh, Prince Hans, you could have been my greatest ally, sharing in our revenge against that Icy Witch! But, sanely, since you will not be my ally, you will be my pawn. The southern Isles _will_ join Wesleton against Arendelle! One way, or another…"

Once again the Duke lifted the bottle to his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in a preemptively celebratory maniacal laugh.

…

Elsa watched, wide eyed with marvelous surprise as her ice began to melt under the Prince's hand. It trickled down to soak the carpet, but she didn't care. She was mesmerized by the display of magic. Real magic. Like hers, yet not like hers at all!

He met her eyes through the gap he made. Smoldering hazel, as if lit from an inner flame. Funny, she'd thought the exact same thing the first time she saw him in her throne room, now she began to wonder if they really were lit by an inner flame. Fire magic. Like she had ice magic, he possessed fire magic.

"Yes." He said. Eyes desperate for her to understand. She wanted to melt under that burning stare. "May I come in?"

Then she remembered their situation and who exactly each of them was. The Snow Queen of Arendelle was _not_ about to invite the War Minister of the Southern Isles into her bedroom! Nope. Nope. Nope. Certainly not! But, he was the first magically gifted person besides herself she'd ever met -or even heard of for that matter. She wanted to talk to him. Now that she knew, she wanted to talk to him a lot! How did he and his family cope with his powers? Did he lock himself away too? From all twelve of his brothers? How did he manage that? She never heard of any magical terror befalling the Southern Isles, so he never must have had an episode like she caused. How did he maintain control? She wanted to know! But she was not going to invite him him.

"No." She told him. "But I'll come out."

As Anna's love thawed her fear and allowed her to lift the winter from Arendelle, so too did her excitement at having met another like herself helped her to lift the ice that barricaded her door. Elsa stepped out and smiled awkwardly at the Prince -at Morgan.

"Is there someplace we can talk without being heard?" He asked.

"Or seen." Elsa nodded, excited. "I want you to show me more of your powers."

She grabbed his hand and dragged him down the corridor and down the stairs.

"Its not for show-boating, ya know."

Elsa wasn't listening. She lead him out of the palace through the same door she escaped from on her coronation night. But in stead of fleeing with him across the water as she did that night, she paused on the bank. Elsa cast an appraising glance up at the wall, then a second one across the water. "Its still light enough that no one should notice a bit of fire." She said, with mrs excitement than she'd allowed into her voice in years. "Show me more of _your _magic."

Morgan likewise cast his eyes upwards at the wall, then across the water, just as Elsa did. He planned to share his secret with her, he did not plan to reveal his secret to all of Arendelle. Almost no one out side of the immediate staff and attendants of the himself and his thirteen brothers knew about his magic. But her eyes were so big and pleading with a fragile, ernest excitement. Morgan sighed. Holding out his hands, he let his power flow through him, up from his core and down his arms to pool in his hands.

Eyes wide, Elsa peered at the live flame in his hands as if fire were something she'd never seen before.

"I've never met anyone besides myself who had the magic." She muttered, more to herself than to Morgan. "You're the first I've ever met. For the first time in forever…"

"I, uh…" Morgan began, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "I've met one other. He was my mentor until I came of age and he just sort of… left."

Her crystal blue eyes snapped from the flame n his hands to his own hazel eyes. "You've met others like us!?"

"Just one." He was quick to assure her. "He taught me how to… _regulate_ my powers. He said its impossible to ever have full control since the magic is tied to emotion and you can't control how you feel. But you can _channel_ your feelings in different way so that your magic doesn't blow up in someone's face when you're angry, or scared, or stressed."

"I wish I had a mentor like that." Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, turning slightly to the side, avoiding eye-contact.

Morgan extinguished the fire in his hands and placed one warm palm on her daintily frosted shoulder. "I was lucky." He said. "But it looks to me like you've got your magic well in hand now. And nothing truly terrible happened in the end. I am sorry for the part my little brother played in the whole fiasco. Hans learned the art of getting himself into trouble from our other brother Asher. What he didn't learn from Asher was how to get himself out of it again."

"He tried to kill me and left my sister to die!" Elsa reminded him.

"I know." Morgan nodded soberly. "Willaham has him confined on Freja Island. He won't bother you or anyone else ever again."

"Freja Island…" She repeated, considering. "Is that one of your prisons?"

Morgan smiled. "Uh, no. Its the location of my late mother's summer estate."

Elsa looked disappointed and ever so slightly annoyed. "So he's basically relaxing in a huge mansion as if nothing ever happened?"

…

It was getting a little lonely. All the empty rooms of his mother's estate. With nothing to do but watch the hours tick by.

Hans sprawled on the floor of the library in front of a large grandfather lock. He watched the pendulum swing by, following the motion with his eyes and echoing each of the ticks with a click of his tongue. He was board. Very, very, board. Was this how _she_ felt? Anna, growing up in her palace, cut off from her sister, left with no other companionship. Gosh! No wonder she was all to happy to believe every pretty line he spoon fed her.

With a sigh, Hans picked himself up off the floor and dragged himself out of the library.

He got a running start then slid across the polished wood floors in his socks, just as Anna showed him. But the thrill was short lived, his elation declined as his feet slowed. Hans paused to gaze at the paintings that lined the corridor. He leaned against the wall next to a whimsical portrait of Forseti, the ancient god of justice and truth.

"Oh, don't look so smug." He said to the painting. "I'm sure there are plenty of jerks like me who succeeded where I failed."

Hans turned from Forseti, his eyes skating over a romanticized scene of cherubs frolicking in a flower-filled landscape, and settling instead on one depicting Beowulf's ill-fated confrontation with the dragon. "How 'bout you? You not only slew the vicious beast, but also the evil witch. How'd you do it?"

But the painting gave no answer. Beowulf did not turn his attention away from the dragon long enough to answer the Prince's question. He was oil on canvas and therefore could not speak. Hans heaved another sight. He'd started talking to the paintings on the walls. Now he truly had hit rock bottom.

"Pardon me, Your Highness. I don't mean to interrupt your… conversation," entered the Butler, "but the Duke of Wesleton is back and demanding to see you again."

Hans' eyebrows came down at the mention of the Duke. He thought he was very clear the first time the man came for a visit. He and Hans were not allies in Arendelle, in fact, the Duke's guards interfered with his plans and nearly ruined things at Elsa's ice fortress. Hans knew how to deal with magical persons. Goodness knew he had enough experience with Morgan. Her powers were tied to her emotions, just like Morgan's are. If he could have just talked her down… But no! Mustache-Man and Clean-Face had to charge in, crossbows blazing and set her off even worse than she was before. Honestly, if that chandelier hadn't fallen, Hans didn't know what he would have done.

If the Duke's interference ended there, Hans wouldn't be quite so wary of him. But now he, apparently, resented Elsa so much so that he was determined to go to war with Arendelle and he wanted to drag the Southern Isles into it. Hans already messed up once and because of it he might have lost his brother's love. Morgan was so mad at him, he didn't even turn around to hear his apology before leaving for Arendelle. He might not even come to visit Hans when he did return. For all Hans knew, he would never again see his big brother so long as he was confined to house arrest.

No. Hans was going to be carful not to mess up in the eyes of his brothers this time.

It wasn't about feeling bad over manipulating Anna with her bright, bright eyes. Or trying to kill Elsa who just wanted to be left alone where she couldn't hurt anyone. It wasn't even about the fact that he knew WIllaham wouldn't listen to him. No. It was about the fact that he messed up big time. Hans was determined _not _to mess up again.

"Tell him to go away." The Prince commanded.

"Very good, sir." The Butler left.

Hans went back to the paintings. Suddenly, resuming his conversations with Beowulf and Forseti seemed very silly. They were just flat color after all. Should he go sliding down the bannisters? Or climb the roof to look at the clouds? It was to early for stars, but clouds could be just as interesting.

The Butler returned again. "Apologies, Your Highness, but he won't go away. He's rather insistent."

Hans sighed. "Alright. I'll meet him. Briefly."

The Duke was waiting in the same parlor that overlooked the inlet. He turned around when Hans entered and once again smiled.

"I understand your desire to send me away after our last meeting." He said. "I imagine one would not take kindly to having a mere acquaintance ask you to go to war on their behalf. I came here to offer my sincere apologies. Will you sit?"

He indicated a table already set with fresh tea.

Hans stared at him skeptically for a moment. But it was tea. Really, what could be so bad about sitting down to tea? To hearing the old man's apology, and then sending him on his merry little way. After a moment's pause, Hans pulled out a chair and sat down opposite the Duke.

The old man passed him a cup.

Hans accepted it, still scrutinizing the Duke for any signs of duplicity. Growing up the youngest of thirteen brothers, Hans learned to recognize when he was being played. It was just being very good at reading people. It was what allowed him to manipulate Anna so completely. But while Hans could tell the Duke did have an ulterior motive in this meeting, he just couldn't tell what it was.

He sipped his tea thoughtfully, pondering all that he knew of the Duke of Wesleton.

He was greedy. Hans remembered all to well how he protested he giving out of cloaks, blankets, and soup. How he sent his two bodyguards to kill Elsa before Hans was ready to have her killed. How he still tried to play the role of the victim after Elsa finally gained control of herself and restored the summer. All of that told Hans the Duke was not one to be trusted. There was duplicity in this meeting, but he couldn't yet see what it was.

Hans took another sip of the tea. He didn't know what kind of sweetener was used in it, it wasn't quite sugar, but it was delicious!

"Alright, you wanted to apologize. So apologize."

The Duke ported himself a cup of tea, but did not drink it. "I realize now that I was overstepping my bounds by asking you to speak with your brother on Wesleton's behalf. You are already on probation with them and my request would have placed a strain on your own standing. I apologize."

"Hm." Hans muttered as he sipped his tea. It really was rather good. He pored himself a second cup. "Well, its nice that you admit it."

"When you're as old as me, young man, you learn to own up to your mistakes."

That struck a nerve. Hans' mind immediately jumped to Anna and all the mistakes he made with her and her sister. He sipped the tea some more, if for no other reason than to have an excuse not to speak. He really might have liked living with her. Maybe not so much with Elsa too, but Has would have liked being with Anna. He took another sip of the tea.

"Well, I've said my peace." The Duke stood. "I'll leave you be."

He never once touched his own cup of tea.

…

(A/N: On the subject of the potion the Duke is using on Hans, I have taken some creative liberties with it, but the _idea_ is not a complete fabrication. Hypothermia can be an adverse drug reaction of antipsychotic drug use. Antipsychotic drugs can influence thermoregulation. Even before its psychotropic properties were clear in the early 1950s, the first manufactured APD, chloropromazine, was used to suppress compensatory responses to body cooling in surgery (artificial hibernation). )


	4. Concerns

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Four: Concerns

Prince Hans shivered. He felt cold and that saw strange because it was the middle of summer. Well, getting near the end of summer, technically, but it was still warm.

The sun streamed in through the open window, illuminating the dust motes that wafted through the air. He rubbed his arms to work some heat back into them. Why was he cold?

Still pondering this curiously, Hans left the library and headed strait for his room, intent to put on a sweater. It was ridiculous, having to put on a sweater in the middle of the day, in the middle of summer. But he was cold. Hans did not slide over the hardwood flood in his socks on his way to his room, but he did consider his socks and maybe putting on a second pair. Since the first pair, obviously, wasn't doing an acceptable job of insulating his feet.

Once in his room, Hans eye lingered on his fireplace and he wondered whether or not he was cold enough to summon a servant to light a fire for him.

But, no. It was the middle of the day in the middle of summer. Who lights a fire in the middle of summer? -Besides Morgan. Who besides Morgan lights a fire in the middle of the day, in the middle of summer?

…

Elsa's laughed was like a soft rain tinkling off glass. Clear and sharp, but airy and light -timid. Like she wasn't used to laughing, she hadn't much practice, or was afraid to feel pleasure and have fun. Morgan liked her laugh. He rather wanted to make her laugh more. And he hoped she was having fun.

Their little demonstration of powers lasted longer than either of them had planned, but neither seemed to mind.

"Watch this!" Elsa raised her arms over her head, swirling her hands around each other, creating a small snow flurry. She let it go and a light fluffy snow began to fall around them in a tint circle. A little piece of winter in the middle of summer.

"Beautiful." Morgan breathed, wide-eyed as he turned and turned watching the snow fall around him. "Now watch this."

He knelt down in the middle of the circle of light snow that was gathering on the ground. Placing his hands on the ground, the heat flowing out of him, Morgan lit a small fire in the circle or snow.

Elsa clapped happily. "You have such excellent control."

"I think your control is pretty good too." Morgan rose to his feet. "Certainly much better than what I was expecting from the story I heard."

Her smiled faded quickly. The light and cheerful snowfall turned heavy.

"Hey, hey." Morgan placed his hands on her shoulders. "Its okay. Feels can get away from you and when that happens your power goes a little wild. And everything turned out okay in the end. You don't have anything to feel bad about."

She did not meet his eyes. "Did your power ever get away from you like that? I didn't just change the weather, I chased away an entire _season_! I never had any idea I had such power."

"I can't say I've ever done anything as drastic as that." Morgan admitted. "I've burned people before. Set a couple of places on fire. Sunk a number of boats by burning them down to the water line. But I've never turned the winter to summer or anything like that."

"I'm glad I met someone who has powers like mine and understands me." Elsa admitted, leaning into his hands, closing the distance between them. But before she could get close enough to press herself against the warmth of his chest, something large and furry barreled into him. Knocking Morgan to the ground and startling her.

Sven stood over the fire prince, one hoof on his chest, holding him down, glaring down at the man. Breath coming out in clouds from the chill in the air around Elsa's snow-circle. Olaf hopped down from the reighndeer's back.

"I knew it." He said. "I knew you couldn't be trusted, buster!" Olaf walked around to glare down his long carrot nose at Morgan laying prostrate on ground under Sven. "And here you are seducing our beloved Elsa just like your brother did to Anna. You cad!" Then turning to the previously mentioned Snow Queen, he asked, voice full of concern, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he? Don't worry, Elsa, I'll take care of this."

"What is going on!?" The Queen demanded, at an utter loss as to what just happened. One moment she was leaning in for a hug, the next moment the person she wanted that hug from was attacked and restrained by Sven and Olaf.

Olaf, on the other hand, did not appear to be paying attention. "Good thing the Princess Protection Detail was here! Ha! I guess you didn't think that would extend to former Princesses like Elsa. She might be Queen now, but she's still under our protection!"

"_Olaf_!" The previously discussed Queen barked with more authority this time. "I asked you a question! What is going on?"

The diminutive snowman turned from the Prince laying on the ground to the very irate Queen standing behind him. He went from Morgan to Elsa, looking concerned. "Are you okay? Did he force you out here? You used your magic, were you defending yourself? You could have just called the guards. There's no need for you to trouble yourself when you have people to do that for you."

Especially not when she was still figuring out how to control her powers and could cause another disaster if she let them get away from her again. Elsa added to herself. But that was neither here nor there. Olaf seemed to be under the wrong impression of what she and Prince Morgan were doing out here. He did not drag her out here under duress, in fact, it was quite the opposite. She was the one to drag him out.

"Sven, let him up." She commanded.

"What?" Asked Olaf. "But why?"

"He hasn't done anything wrong. Let him up." Then, after a pause, "Don't make me repeat myself."

There was another pause that lasted one… two… three beats before Olaf and Sven exchanged a look and the reighndeer backed up off the foreign Prince. Morgan coughed, one hand going to his chest, to the spot Sven's hoof just vacated. With visual difficulty, Morgan climbed to his feet. "Your snow construct seems to be under the very wrong impression about me."

"What impression is that?" Elsa turned a stern eye to her snowman.

Olaf looked up at her, his expression reasoning. "Elsa, remember what his brother did to Anna. I'm just trying to make sure this one doesn't pull the same stunt with you. The fruits don't usually fall to far from their tree. When Anna realized you weren't in your room, I knew he must have tried to abduct you, so I started looking for signs of your magic. I knew you wouldn't go without a fight. I'm so proud of you."

There was a second beat of silence. Now it was Elsa and Morgan's turn to exchange a look. Then the Queen sighed because she had to explain, "He didn't abduct me, Olaf. I brought him out here. I wanted him to show me something."

"Huh?" The poor snowman looked so confused. "What?"

"This." Morgan snapped his fingers and the small flame in the center of Elsa's circle of snow leapt into a blaze.

Olaf jumped back startled. "What the-!?" His eyes flicked from the blaze to Morgan, back to the flame, back to Morgan, and so on. "Did you do-? But how did-? You can-? Oh! I see!"

"Prince Morgan has powers similar to mine." Elsa explained. "Only his are fire instead of ice."

"I had hoped to show it to your Queen discreetly, but it seems that's out of the question now."

There was a third pause. This one lasting one… two… three… …four… five… six beats. Then Olaf threw up his arms and exclaimed, "Oh this is wonderful! You finally met someone just like you! I'm so happy!"

He waddled up and hugged them both around the thighs -which was about as high up as he could reach on either of them.

"Oh. I can't wait to tell Anna and Kristoff!" He continued. "They'll be so happy!"

Olaf waddled back over to Sven, climbing up onto the reighndeer's back with surprising adeptness.

"Olaf, wait!" Elsa pleaded, suddenly as alarmed as she was when Sven first barreled into the Prince.

But once again, the snowman appeared not to be listening. "C'mon, Sven! Lets go tell everyone the good news!"

…

"What this about you finding your match!?" Anna demanded when she found her elder sister returning to the domestic wing of the castle -and with the ambassador of the Southern Isles with her no less. "Olaf came charging in on Sven while Kristoff and I were having dinner raving about your match!" Anna crossed her arms over her chest and stared sideways at her sister. "Since I've never heard of this guy before, I can only assume you just met him. Do I need to repeat your own words back to you? _You can't marry a man you just met_!"

"Wait, what!?" The Prince from the Southern Isles asked alarmed.

Anna held up a hand to silence him. "You stay out of this."

Elsa gave her sister a patient smile. "Anna, Olaf just over reacted a bit. I'm not getting married. And I haven't met my 'match'. But I have met someone like myself."

"Wait, what?" Now it was Anna's turn to blink in surprise. "Really? Who? When? How? Someone else with ice magic?"

"I'd really prefer it if you didn't-" The Prince began, but Anna cut him off again.

"Hush, you! This has nothing to do with you. This is between my sister and I." Anna took Elsa by the arm and nudged Morgan out of the way with her hip. "Who is this person? Someone who just recently came to Arendelle? They couldn't have been here during the- well, ya know. How'd you meet them? _When_ did you meet them?"

"Um, well, actually…" Elsa steered them back towards the Prince. She smiled apologetically at Morgan. "Sorry, Minister, but this is my sister. I've got to tell her."

The Prince sighed. "Fine. But this doesn't go beyond her."

Anna blinked in confusion. "What? What doesn't go beyond me?"

"The person I met has magic, like I do." Elsa explained. "But its not ice magic he has."

Morgan extended on hand, plan up. Anna stared at him in confusion for a moment before a tiny flame, no bigger than that of a candle's, appeared in his hand. The fire grew until it covered his whole hand. Then he closed his fist and extinguished it. "I have the magic of fire."

"Woah." All three of them turned to see Kristoff had come around the corner without their notice and witness the Prince's short display. Now it seemed they all knew.

Great. Morgan came to Arendelle intending to reveal himself to Elsa and Elsa _only_. Now it seemed the whole rag-tag entourage was privy to his secret. It truly was amazing that Elsa's magic remained unknown for so long. Keeping a secret in Arendelle seemed impossible nowadays.

…

Hans did summon a servant to light his fireplace.

He also put on a second sweater, exchanged his summer trousers for warmer winter pants, doubled his socks, and demanded an extra blanket. He was cold. Cold and could not get warm. Hans sat up in his bed, shivering. The shivering had gotten worse rather than better. The shaking was so bad, in fact, that it was making him clumsy.

The staff was concerned. So concerned, in fact, that they even went so far as to not only call a local doctor, but also one of his brothers.

Conrart waited until the doctor finished his examination of the youngest Prince before he entered the room and sat on the foot of the bed. He gave Hans a quick but thorough glance-over. He did not appear to be injured. Loss of blood could sometimes make a person cold. But he had no open wounds, so that theory was out. Likewise, he hadn't been outside, so he couldn't have been swimming in the sea, stayed in to long and gotten cold. (Swimming in the sea also would have been a violation of his house arrest, but Conrart chose to ignore that nuance.)

"H-hey." Hans shivered.

"Hey." Conrart nodded. Then, turning to the doctor, whom was placing a stethoscope back into his bag, he asked, "What's wrong with him?"

The doctor paused. Then answered, "Its my opinion that the Prince is exhibiting the symptoms of hypothermia."

"Hypothermia?" Conrart echoed. "In the middle of summer?"

The doctor nodded soberly. He knew how crazy it sounded. "That is my opinion."

Conrart nodded, turning his attention back to Hans. He brushed a strand of auburn hair out of his baby brother's face before placing a hand on his knee, rubbing it gently to try and work some heat into it. Conrart waited until the others were out of the room before asking, "When you were in Arendelle, did the queen ever…?"

"N-no." Hans shook his head. "Els-s-sa nev-ver t-touched me w-wither her i-ic-ce."

"Okay." Conrart moved up closer to the head of the bed. He took Hans' hand. His hands were like ice! "Okay. Don't speak. So, the Queen never touched you with her ice. Did she hit you with any of her magic? Not just ice, but snow? From the account that was sent to Kurtz I know the sister was nearly frozen until death. You were there, you saw it. Is this right now anything like that?"

Hans took a moment to remember Anna, her hair turned white, snowflakes forming on her hands… He looked at his own hands. They were cold and a little less pink than usual, but not overly pail, certainly no snowflakes. He turned to the side, catching his reflection in the window glass. His hair was still a vibrant auburn, no white to speak of. Hans shook his head. "N-no. This-s is-s moth-thing lik-ke th-that."

"Okay." Conrart stroked his hair some more. "I might not have anything to do with the Queen's magic. I might just be an extreme coincidence that you came down with a cold-related illness so soon after the ordeal." Neither brother mentioned how extreme and unlikely a coincidence it seemed. Both knew the obvious answer was Elsa, but Hans was still pretty sure she never hit him with her magic. "Even if it has nothing to do with magic, I'm gonna send word to Morgan. Get him to come home. With his fire magic, maybe he can do something."

…

Anna and Kristoff already had their dinner, so it was not over a meal that Morgan was forced to give his explanations but rather over hot chocolate.

The sitting room they chose for this conversation had plenty of couches and chairs, but Princess Anna opted to sprawl on the floor instead, a pillow under her arms for support. It reminded him of something Hans would do. He knew his little brother didn't really care for the girl and had only been manipulating her to get to the throne, but he thought that if the brat ever actually took the time to get to know her, they might have been a rather nice fit. An almost perfect match. But that idea was well beyond impossible now. Hans blew his chances with her. That door was shut to him.

Kristoff stretched out next to Anna. Morgan was still a little confused as to why the ice cutter was still hare. Hanging around the palace, that is. He knew that the man was a key player in the Frozen Summer fiasco. That he helped the Princess thaw her sister's heart and return the winter. But Morgan would have thought their association would have ended there. After all, what reason did a Princess have to associate with an ice cutter? But the man remained, he was just a bedroom and a private tailor short of becoming a resident of the palace.

Elsa, at least, possessed much more dignity than the pair on the floor. She sat in a chair, hands folded modestly in her lap.

Taking up the whole couch was Olaf, his little snow-flurry cloud dusting the dark upholstery with light, fluffy snow.

"So," Anna said after Morgan finished his explanation. "That whole time, Hans already knew how to fight with a magical person?"

"Fight?" Morgan snorted. "Ha. No. The Thumb-Sucker know how to _handle_ a magical person. He knows how the power works and that the best thing to do is keep them calm. At best, he knows how to talk one down. But fight? Nah. He'd get his arse beat."

"That makes sense." Elsa added. "Back at my castle on the North Mountain he never attacked me once, in fact, he stopped the others from shooting me. But he did try reasoning with me. If it weren't for him, I just might have killed one of the Duke's guards. Then, out on the harbor ice, he didn't attack me until I had already given up and my back was turned. He said I killed Anna and it- I just- I wanted it all to be over, and the storm stopped and everything got very still. He knew how to control my powers better than I did."

"He liked to sneak away from his governess and spy on my mentor and I training." Morgan explained, sounding almost like an apology.

Kristoff placed his mug down on the carpet next to him. "So, basically, what you're saying is the Prince Arse knew how to play all of us from the very beginning and it was only luck we came out on top."

"Hey now," Morgan warned, "I knew he wronged everyone in this room, but the little Thumb-Sucker is still my baby brother. No one is aloud to call him an arse but me."

"Still protective of him, I see." Kristoff gave an ironic smile. "Even though he took everything he learned from you and turned around and used it to manipulate and kill two innocent and unprepared women."

"Can we stop talking about Hans for a sec?" Anna cut in. "I'm just a little sick of hearing about him. I think we should focus instead on the fact that Prince Morgan here has fire powers! Now it all makes sense. The Southern Isles weren't sending their War Minister to talk to us, the thirteen brothers were sending the one who can understand Elsa!"

"That was the general idea." The Prince nodded. "Kurtz, another of my brothers and the Southern Isles Minister of Foreign Affairs, also thought we could be friends."

"'Friends'?" Kristoff echoed. "Oh, is that what you call it in the Southern Isles?"

"Oh, stop." Anna hit him playfully on the shoulder.

Elsa stood. "Alright, if you two are just going to start horsing around and make inappropriate insinuations, I think its time for bed. Kristoff, it was good seeing you again, but I'm sure you'd feel much more comfortable at your own place. Morgan, would you mind seeing him out? Anna, lets go to bed."

"Well, that's my cue." The ice cutter climbed to his feet, stretching his back. He downed the last of his hot chocolate then turned to Anna. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Anna smiled up at him.

Morgan also stood, waiting for he couple to finish their good byes for the evening. Elsa came up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. She whispered, "Thank you. I know asking you to escort a visiter out of palace is beneath your station. I do like Kristoff, he helped both my sister and myself during the Frozen Summer fiasco. But Anna is still unused to people and Kristoff is only the second man she's ever met. I just wanna make sure she doesn't make another mistake."

"I understand." He nodded, voice equally soft. "I have younger siblings too. While they may act like idiots and make bad decisions, I still want to protect them."

"Thank you." Elsa whispered again.

Morgan nodded. Then said to Kristoff, "Ready to go?"

The two men exited the sitting room.

They walked in awkward silence for a while. Through corridors and down staircases to the main gate. Even at night the gates remained open. The Minister of War inside Morgan mentally shook his head. That could not be safe. It was practically inviting an invading army to just march right in. But, then again, they'd have to get to the shore first. Elsa, with her ice magic wouldn't let that happen. Still, the Queen being so young, her reign so new, and relations with other nations so tense, Morgan did not think it was wise to leave the gates open.

"I know what Elsa's trying to do." Kristoff said suddely.

"Huh?" Morgan blinked in confusion, his attention pulled away from the gates.

"She probably sent you out here to remind me that Anna's above me and out of my league. Right?" Elaborated the ice cutter. "She appreciates my help, but its time for the association with her sister to end. Am I right?"

Morgan considered lying, reassuring this man that he had nothing to worry about. But he didn't have anything to gain from that. So, he replied truthfully. "She did mention that she was grateful for your help. But she is wary of her sister's closeness with you. But I don't think it has to do with your status -or lack there of. Remember, prior to a few weeks ago, those sisters spent their whole lives be hid closed doors not seeing or speaking to other people. The Queen is just concerned for his sister's safety. Her judgment when it comes to meeting new people has already been proved questionable. She just doesn't want Princess Anna to make another mistake."

"So, its not a class thing, its a stranger-danger thing." He nodded. "Elsa has reservations about me, even though she's known me for weeks by now. Yet she just met you a few days ago and trusts you implicitly?"

The Prince gave a shrug. "The Queen and I share something few others can understand."

"Uh-huh." Kristoff nodded, not impressed in the least. "And I'm sure your brother told a similar line to Anna. You'll forgive me if I don't instantly trust you implicitly just because you also have magic."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Morgan offered his hand for Kristoff to shake it.

The ice cutter looked at it skeptically for a moment. Then, after a pause, took the offered hand. "I got my eye on you, Prince."

"You should join the club." He laughed. "See you tomorrow."


	5. Ill News

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Five: Ill News

The ship from the Southern Isles pulled into the harbor in the early morning hours of the day, while everyone but the harbor master were asleep in their beds. Just as the sun was climbing over the mountain peaks. It pulled into the birth just opposite the _Morning Star, _Prince Morgan's yacht.

…

The wood was burning low and while it was still late summer, the night air was rolling in from the north sea. Asher and Jovan didn't seem to have any intensions of going back inside, so the rest of them would just have to suffer the cold night air, lest they go in alone and face their parents' wrath with their elders' support.

Morgan sat cross-legged in front of the waning fire, braiding the tongues of flame into shapes. Hans crawled into his lap, seeking warmth. Morgan was, after all, _literally_ the warmest of all his brothers.

"And what are you up to, little Thumb-Sucker?" Asked the older boy, but made no move to push him off his lap.

"Sittin'." Hans replied, leaning against Moran's chest and placing his thumb back in his mouth.

The younger boy was asleep in was nothing for Morgan to do but sit and try not to shift to much until Asher had his fun and was ready to go back inside. With a sigh, the fire prince wrapped his arms around his baby brother to chase away the cold.

…

A light knocking on his bedroom door was the first thing the Prince of the Southern Isles heard when he woke up. Actually, that was the thing that woke him. Contrary to his name, Morgan was not a morning person. He ignored the knocking, rolled over and went back to sleep. Sadly, whomever was outside his door would not allow him to return to sleep without a fight. The knocking became louder and more insistent. With a groan and a snarl, the Prince dragged himself out of bed and wrenched open the door.

But before the very angry '_What!?_' that was on the tip of his tongue could escape his lips, the insistent knocker spoke first.

"Prince Morgan!" He began, looking just as hurried as he sounded. "Urgent message for you from home, sir."

Morgan starred blurry eyed at the man for a moment, still half asleep. Something was off about the way he spoke. It wasn't the normal accent native to Arendelle, in fact, it sounded a lot more like someone from home. And the uniform. The uniform was not that of the staff here. It was the uniform of a royal messenger from the Southern Isles. With a start Morgan snapped fully awake. "From Willaham? What's going on?"

"From Prince Conrart, sir." The messenger held out an envelope sealed with wax stamped, not with the emblem of the defense office, but with Conrart's personal seal. "Its regarding Prince Hans. I imagine you'll probably want to leave immediately after reading it. I'll be waiting in the harbor."

Confused and concerned, Morgan broke the seal on the envelope. What kind of trouble did Hans get himself into this time? Did he break house arrest? Escape to another nation? Seduce another Princess? Were they about to be at war with another country because the little Thumb-Sucker just couldn't be contented with wealth and property? Did they need their War Minister home to rain down fire on a new enemy and set the seas ablaze. No… Hans had to have more. Wealth and property might be just fine for Renard, Gunther, Sergei, and Victor. But for Hans? No, he just had to have a crown. Morgan loved his baby brother, but the man could really be an entailed little snot some times.

Morgan and skimmed over the message. Then reread it more carefully to make sure he hadn't misunderstood anything. It was _not_ what he expected.

"I need to speak to the Queen!"

…

Unlike her sister, Anna, Elsa was an early riser and was already up, dressed and sitting down to breakfast by the time the sun had climbed fully over the mountains. She stirred her porridge while perusing the first quarterly financial report of her reign. It was just as she finished reading the fief synopsis at the top of the document and was moving down to the actual profit and spending breakdown, that Prince Morgan burst into the parlor.

He looked a wild mess. Not just because he seemed to have just rolled out of bed, still clad in nothing more than sleep pants. His chest and feet bare. His hair up in a wild flame. Hazel eyes blazing. He looked wild, and he looked angry.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Elsa stood, not intimidated by his entrance in the least.

"I was going to ask you the same question." He snapped back, making her start with confusion. "Elsa, Hans is an idiot and I know he wronged you and your sister, but did he really deserve this!?"

"What? House arrest?" She blinked at him in confusion. "That was your King's ruling, not mine."

"Not that." He threw a piece of crumpled paper on the table. It was a bit singed around the edges, but it looked to be a letter. "_This!_"

Elsa set down her financial documents and picked it up, smoothing the paper out. Her eyes skipped over the inane 'dear brother' and went right to the 'request you return immediately' which was preceded by 'Hans suffering from freezing illness', 'magic suspected'. Elsa set down the letter. Now she understood. "You think I froze your brothers heart like I did to Anna."

"_Did you!?_"

"I did not." She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. Coming around to place a cooling hand on his bare shoulder. His skin felt burning to the touch. On any other person she would fear the heat was a deadly fever, but on Morgan she knew it was the magic contained within his body. He was so worried after his brother It must be taking him a great effort to keep his power leashed and not to set the room on fire. "Not once did I touch him with my ice. Not when he and Anna asked for my blessing at the ball, not when he came to my fortress in the mountains, not when he had me locked in my own prison, and not when we were out in the harbor and he tried to kill me. Not once did I aim my magic at him, and not once did my magic hit him. You have my complete assurance of that, Minister -Morgan."

He placed one hot hand over hers. "I want to believe you, Elsa." Then he cleared his throat, gaining some semblance of control over his composure. Morgan removed her hand from his shoulder. "Never the less, Your Majesty, my brother is ill. I must return home immediately. I apologize for having to cut our peace talks short. I'll take my leave now."

With an about-face of exaggerated military discipline Morgan turned and walked out of the parlor. Leaving his letter forgotten on the table and Elsa alone with her thoughts and her worries.

…

Morgan took the messenger's ship, it was the faster of the two. He left the Morning Star in Arendelle's harbor. If all turned out well in the end, he would be back for it. If things didn't turn out well… Well, he'd still be back, but it wouldn't be to reclaim his ship. It would be to avenge the freezing of a Prince of the Southern Isles. A future that, while very possible, Morgan did not want to consider.

He was angry with Hans when he left. Son angry, in fact, that he didn't want to accept the little Thumb-Sucker's apology. He didn't want the last conversation he had with his brother to be an angry one, blaming Hans for all his mistakes and then walking away like he didn't even want them to be brothers anymore. Morgan would never forgive himself if that happened.

He also didn't want to go to war with Elsa. True, he hadn't spent much time in Arendelle, but from the short time he was there, he saw that the girls were inexperienced in the world, but sweet and friendly. If they'd had more time, he and Elsa could have become true friends. Sadly, the world conspires against such things.

…

It was to a frosty breakfast parlor that Anna walked into, yawning, when she finally deigned to roll out of bed. The princess blinked in confusion, her socks suddenly turning cold and wet when she passed through the door. Suddenly wide awake, Anna blinked the sleep out of her eyes and stared at her sister pacing back and forth in front of the parlor window, her breakfast frozen over and forgotten on the table. Frost covered the windows. Ice was forming on the floor. A light snow flurry was just beginning to form on the ceiling, sprinkling the room with fluffy white powder.

"Elsa?" Anna ventured, concerned but hesitant. "What's wrong?"

The Queen did not reply at first. Didn't even acknowledge her sister's presence in the room. Just kept pacing, back and forth. Biting her thumb with anxiety.

Picking her way across the icy floor, Anna sat in a vacant seat at the breakfast table. She pealed her wet socks off and tucked her now cold feet under herself in an attempt to warm them back up. "Take your time."

"I've been going over it in my mind. Over and over again." Elsa said finally. Anna had no idea what she was talking about. But if her sister wanted to elaborate, she would. Anna tapped Elsa's porridge with a spoon, found it to be as hard as ice -frozen solid- and ignored it. "I never hit him with my magic. I'm sure of it. I never touched him."

"Totally ready to join the conversation over here." Anna chimed, resting her elbow on the table and her cheek in her hand. "Just gotta know who you didn't touch and why."

Elsa placed a hand to her forehead, making small circles, apparently trying to massage away a stress headache. "This can be bad. This can be very, very bad."

"I know, so bad." Anna agreed. "Its terrible being spectator to a one-sided conversation."

"_Anna!_" The Queen barked suddenly.

"Present." The Princess chimed, raising her hand.

The older woman looked annoyed. "This is not a joking matter. If it turns out I killed him,_ it could start a war!_"

Anna paused for a moment, blinking in utter confusion. "Whoa, whoa, whoa… Back up. War? Killed someone? I missed something. I missed a lot. what happened? What's going on? Who did you kill? Who are we going to war with?"

"Anna, do you remember if I might have hit Hans with my ice at all? Ever." Elsa asked desperately.

"Hans? N-no… Not that I can think of." The younger woman replied. Now suddenly alarmed. Elsa thinks she might have killed Hans? But why? Morgan came here to negotiate a peace between their nations and apologize for Hans. Not declare war and take revenge for his death. Something was wrong here. "What's going on?"

Taking a few breaths to steady herself, Elsa pointed to a piece of paper on the table. As she did so a light breeze drifted from her hand to lift the paper off the table and sending it fluttering in agitation so that Anna had to grab for it quickly. The paper appeared to be a letter addressed, not to Elsa, but rather to the Southern Isles' ambassador, Morgan. It explained that Hans was suffering from a mysterious illness that was usually only caused by the cold. But it was the middle of summer and there was no reason for him to be suffering from such an ailment. Although Anna could not remember her sister ever having hit Hans with her magic, it was just a little to coincidental for him to be suffering from a cold-born illness so soon ofter the whole ordeal. Anna instantly understood why the blame would fall on her sister.

"But you were defending your self." She said. "I don't remember you ever hitting Hans with your magic either, but even if you did, it was in self-defense. The Southern Isles can't blame you for that. Its Hans' own fault!"

Anna huffed and crumpled up the letter. Tossing it back on the table. She crossed her arms over her chest. The temperature in the room raised slightly as her words began to calm Elsa's anxious heart. The elder sister reclaimed her seat at the table in front of her still frosty breakfast. She had lost her appetite anyway.

"By the way, what did Morgan say?" Anna asked as an after thought.

"Nothing. He just left." Elsa bit her thumb. Then amended her answer. "No. He didn't say anything about going to war over this. Not yet, anyway. But… he did say that he wants to believe I didn't do it. I know I didn't hit Hans. But… I can't imagine what else could cause his condition. It must still be my fault somehow." She put her face in her hands. "As much as I hate Hans, I really don't want to kill Morgan's brother!"

The room started to get cold again.

Anna suppressed a sigh, thinking about the warm winter shawl she had back in her bedroom.

It was then, with Anna's feet tucked under her, trying to stay warm and Elsa's face in her hands, but not quite crying, when Kristoff walked into the room.

He had a warm smile on his face until he stepped through the parlor door and shivered. He took one look at the sisters and put a hand on his hip. "Alright. Who's heart do we have to thaw this time?"

…


	6. Motion & Movement

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Six: Motion & Movement

The Queen of Wesleton knelt by her husband's bed. The King's health was failing faster. He needed that medicine made from the moss in Arendelle's Valley of Living Rocks. The Duke was taking his sweet time in convincing the Southern Isles to aid them in their siege of the Snow Queen's nation. Wesleton didn't stand a chance against the Witch Queen alone, but the King was also running out of time.

It was fortunate, then, that the Duke chose that exact moment to barge in on the Queen while she was visiting her ailing husband.

A flustered looking maid was hot on his heels, spouting protests that the Queen asked not to be destined, the King needed his rest, the Duke did not have permission to enter. All of these protests, however, went ignored by the Duke and the maid was left with not other option but to apologize for her inability to deter him and hope the Queen was in a forgiving mood. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty! I tried to stop him, but-"

"Silence!" The Queen snapped, irritated. "My husband needs his rest."

The maid bowed her head and backed out of the room. The Duke did not.

"Your Majesty," he began, taking an excited step closer to the bed.

"Have you come to tell me that the Southern Isles are mobilizing their navy as we speak?" She cut him off before another word could escape his lips.

The Duke paused, remembering that he was not on the best of terms with the Queen. Not since his poor handling of the fiasco in Arendelle and his loss of the trade agreement with them. "Erm, no…" The Duke confessed. "But they will be soon. It seems Prince Hans is not long for this world. He seems to be suffering from an cold-born illness. It being the middle of summer, the cause of this illness will fall on the Snow Queen of Arendelle. It won't be long now."

"I see." The Queen was about to ask whether or not the Snow Queen really was the cause or not, but then quickly decided she did not care. Besides, in this matter, her ignorance could save her if things turned out badly. The Duke could take all the blame and leave her innocent in the eyes of the other nations. "Then what are you doing here? The Southern Isles will need to see that Wesleton is there to support them in this very emotional time."

"Yes, my Queen." The Duke bowed low and backed out of the room.

The Queen turned back to her husband, intertwining her fingers with his.

…

_"Hans, you have to kiss me!"_

Anna seemed so desperate, pulling on his clothing, trying to pull herself up to his lips. The staff excusing themselves from the room. He was so confused at the time. Then she explained about Elsa and her frozen heart. Suddenly everything all fell into place for him. That was the answer. Frame Elsa for killing her sister (which wouldn't have been as much of a frame as just telling the truth), then kill Elsa for murder and treason, after the whole ruling family of Arendelle was gone, the Cabinet would have no choice but to name him King.

He remembered picking her up and carrying her to the sofa. She felt so light in his arms, like a feather. Light, but also cold. Even through her cloths. Very, very cold. He layer her down, leaned in for their kiss. Then…

_"Oh, Anna, if only someone really loved you…"_

He was a cad. Truly he was scum. Perhaps this cold was his punishment. Who knew? After all, the whole fiasco revolved around and was driven by magic. For all he knew, this could be a magical transference of Anna's frozen heart to him. After all, as she said herself, _"The only frozen heart around here is yours!_"

Someone placed a warm hand on his forehead. A second warm hand took his. Actually, they were hot, very hot. Uncomfortably hot. Hans was so cold that their heat burned his freezing skin. If this wasn't his punishment, Hans certainly felt punished anyway.

"Anna…" Hans moaned, shivering. "Anna…!"

"He's being drifting in and out since yesterday morning." Said a voice by the bed. It sounded vaguely like one of his brothers. Conrart, maybe? No, Conrart's voice was deeper, more baritone. This one was an octave higher. Tight and strained. Kurtz maybe? Yeah, it was Kurtz. "Mor, I need to know if there's any magic involved in this. As much as it seems the work on the Snow Queen, I can't go accusing her without proof."

Magic…? Work of the Snow Queen…? So, he was being punished. Punished by Elsa for what he did to her and her sister. "Anna… Anna, I'm sorry…!"

The hand holding his moved up to press two fingers to the side of his neck, checking his pulse. "Has he said anything besides the Princess' name since it happened?"

"He was speaking with Conrart earlier." Kurtz explained. "But he deteriorated quickly after that."

"And you think its a frozen heart?" The hand on his jugular vein moved down to his chest, the palm resting over his heart.

Hans felt heat flow out of that hand, filling his chest, warming him. He opened his eyes enough to see who it was. Morgan's flame of dark hair hovered over him. Hans blinked his blurry eyes. Morgan's face was tight -tense. His hazel eyes full of concern. It was nothing like what Morgan looked like the last time Hans saw him, angry and resentful. Furious with him for trying to kill another magical person -one of Morgan's own kind. "I'm sorry."

"I know, Thumb-Sucker." Morgan offered a hollow smile. The hand warming his chest withdrew and the freezing cold quickly returned. Hans' eyes closed again, things once again going foggy as he heard Morgan say, "I don't sense any magic. I don't know what caused this, and I don't know if I can fix it."

"No magic?" Kurtz sighed with anxiety. "So, we can't prove it was the Queen. Still… its just a little to coincidental that he came down with this… this freezing decease so soon after returning from the Snow Queen's realm. I just can't think of another explanation besides the Queen."

Morgan groaned. "Elsa wouldn't do this. She doesn't like Hans, but she wouldn't hurt him like this."

"Maybe not intentionally." Kurtz insisted. "But we both know she's more than capable of doing it unintentionally. She did it to her own sister by _accident_, imagine what she could have done to the man who tried to kill both her and her sister."

Hans stopped listening, his mind drifting back to Anna.

Anna with her warm smiled and open eyes. Anna who was so starved for love and attention she was ready to jump into his arms at the drop of a hat. Anna who taught him how to slide in his socks or down bannisters. Anna who danced with him on the lighthouse and played hide-and-seek in the stables. She was young and immature. But her immaturity allowed her to enjoy life. To find amusement and fun in the simple and mundane. He liked her. Hans didn't know he liked, but he did. He liked her a lot. Perhaps not love, certainly not the 'true love' mentioned in stories, but something close to a love.

Was this what she felt like? Was this what she was going through that day? Clawing at his clothing, trying to pull herself up to reach his lips. Asking so desperately for a kiss to thaw her freezing heart and break the spell. Save her from her sister's curse. Hans wondered what would have happened if he had kissed her then. Probably nothing. He didn't love her then. Still, he should have tried. It wouldn't have hurt to try…

"Anna… I'm sorry…"

…

Kristoff lowered the letter Anna showed him. He set it down on the breakfast table -which was still cold, but no longer covered in frost- and drummed his fingers in thought. He also could not remember Elsa ever hitting the prat with her magic. But, even he had to admit, it was an extreme coincidence. "The letter says they _suspect_ magic. It doesn't say they're sure it was Elsa's ice that did it."

Elsa rested her head in her hands. Glaring at the wet table cloth she shook her head. "Of course it was me. Who else… _how_ else could could it have happened?"

"This is the question." Kristoff drummed his fingers on the table one more time. Then he stood, folding the letter neatly and tucking it into a pocket. "Luckily, I know people who just might be able to answer that question. How can someone have symptoms of a frozen heart if they've never been touched by magic ice? That is exactly what I'll ask and I'll go right now."

Anna also hopped to her feet. "Ooh! I'll go too! I haven't seen your family since the whole fiasco and I want to thank them for helping me."

Kristoff paused. "Uh… you do know that they're just gonna try and marry us again."

"W-what!?" Elsa's head snapped up. The mystery of Hans' illness and the crisis of impending war forgotten for the moment. "Excuse me. No. Nobody is marrying anybody! Not until you've known each other for… for a year! Do you understand me!"

"Elsa, don't be silly." Anna scoffed.

While at the exact same time Kristoff nodded, "Good advice."

…

"Hm…" Pabbie's eyes narrowed at Kristoff's narrative. "There are other things besides magic that can freeze a person's heart. Fear for one. Or hate. Or hurt. But none of these things would cause what is described in the letter. Its obvious the brothers of the Southern Isles have no idea how to recognize a real frozen heart."

Kristoff suppressed a groan, he and Sven exchanging a look. They knew what that meant. "Someone will have to go there and verify Hans' frozen heart."

…

"Have you ever even been on a boat before?" Anna stood on the doc, her arms crossed, tapping her foot in irritation. "Why do you have to go at all?"

Sven sniffed the edge of the doc where a dingy drifted in the swells, moored to the docs. Kristoff threw a travel pack into the boat and knelt down to untie is. "Someone who actually knows what a frozen heart looks like has to go there and verify it before we all start freaking out. You don't remember your sister ever hitting him with her ice and neither do I. There's a chance this thing with Hans could be something else, but we don't know what and the brothers of the Southern Isles can't know that if they've only ever dealt with Morgan's fire magic."

Anna did not look convinced. "I don't see why that has to be you."

"Well, it certainly can't be Elsa. She's Queen and needs to stay here and look after her kingdom. You need to stay here and keep Elsa from freaking out. She's gonna be worried until we know the truth and her worry is gonna agitate her powers." He stopped fiddling with the rope and stood, turning to her. Kristoff placed both his hands on her shoulders, closing the distance between them. "I'll feel a lot better knowing you're safe. While I'm gone, help Elsa direct her anxiety and use her magic to build defenses for Arendelle. Just in case I don't come back. Have her make more of those giant snow monster things. An army of them should keep you safe if the worst should happen."

"Mashmellow? An army of them?" Anna blinked. "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

Kristoff ran her thumb over her lower lip. "To keep you safe, no. Its not to much. Anna, listen to me. You spent your whole life sheltered in a castle. Cut off from the ugly aspects of the world. But I grew up in the real world and I've heard the things war can do. The Southern Isles especially. I've heard stories of their navy. Burning ships down to the waterline and setting the seas on fire. Razing who coats to the ground… Which actually makes a lot more sense now after meeting Morgan. But the point it, Arendelle is in real danger here. I want to make sure you're safe."

"I wanna make sure _you're_ safe!" Anna stamped her foot on the ground.

There were other arguments Kristoff prepared for that statement. Something along the lines of the fact that he was just one man and his safety wasn't important when compared to the safety of the whole kingdom. Or that he was just going to look, how much danger could he get into by just looking in on Hans? Or that the best way to keep him safe would be to keep herself safe. He didn't voice any of these arguments, however. Instead he leaned down, tilting her chin up, and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss lasted longer than he intended. With Anna wrapping her arms around his neck and standing up on her tip-toes to better close the distance between them. Her enthusiasm caused him to moan into the kiss. That was when their lips parted. Kristoff pulling away, his face flushed. He cleared his throat. "Ahem, I'll be fine so long as I know you're fine."

"And don't worry, Anna. _I'll _keep him safe!" Both of them blinked as Olaf waddled by, apparently oblivious to the kiss they just shared. They both turned equally bright shades of red. Olaf hopped off the doc into the dingy and waved to Kristoff and Sven. "Well, come one. We better get going before we miss the tide! Oh! Why are both so red? Are you sick? Do you have allergies? I just found out I have allergies not to long ago. I went to smell of flowers and-"

Kristoff leaned his head back and slapped his face.

…

Steam rose from the waters as waves lapped over Morgan's shoulders. He shook with the effort to reign in anxiety. True, Hans was an annoying little prat. But he was still Morgan's baby brother and he didn't deserve to slowly freeze to death. He might have manipulated Princess Anna, tried to kill Queen Elsa, and placed their kingdoms at odds with one another. But it wasn't evil, he was just an idiot, and Morgan still loved him. On top of all that, he was kinda starting to like Elsa right before he left. They were only just getting to know each other, but if Hans hadn't come down with… whatever this was, they might have become good friends.

Waves lapped over his shoulders, filling the air with a hissing sound and sending puffs of steam up into the sky.

Willaham walked across the beach, sanding on the water's edge, waiting for Morgan to finish his mopping and come back in. Morgan glared at him, but ducked his head under the water and swam back anyway. He stayed knee-deep in the water, his wet cloths drying almost in an instant. "I'm not exactly in the best sorts right now, Will." He said. "The only reason I haven't retreated to Feure Island is because Hans might need me here."

"I know." WIllaham nodded. Morgan's powers were tied to his emotions. As worried and conflicted as he was feeling right now, he was not the safest person to be around at the moment. But WIllaham was still King and Morgan was still his Minister of War and a Prince of the Southern Isles was suffering from a curse by the Queen of Arendelle. "Morgan, I want you to mobilize the navy."

He knew it was coming, but Morgan's heart still skipped a beat. The water around his legs bubbling and boiling around him, the sand under his feet melting into glass. "We are going to war?"

The King nodded, soberly. "Kurtz is drafting up our formal declaration. I know how you feel about going up against another magical person, but… The Queen of Arendelle has threatened the life of one of our Princes. We can't let this go unchallenged. It would make us appear weak in the eyes of other nations."

Morgan thought about Elsa's light and airy laugh. The glint in her crystal eyes. That small smirk she did. The way she folded her hands so modestly as if she weren't a fierce and powerfully strong woman. A battle with her would not end well. For either of them. "I understand. I'll scramble the navy."

…


	7. Dread Pirate Roberts

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Seven: Dread Pirate Roberts

Refusing to allow her hands to shake as she read the Southern Isles' official declaration, Elsa sank down to slump against her chair. The office froze over. Floor covered in snow. WIndow covered in ice. Frost covering the desk and the shelves.

The letter was signed Kurtz, the Minister of Foreign and was stamped with this seal of his office. There was no mention or allusion to Morgan, but Elsa couldn't help but wonder about him. Did he agree with and support this decision? Or did he oppose it and was just ignored? Or did they not consult him at all? Did he have no idea they were going to war with her until Minister Kurtz or King WIllaham came to him as the War Minister and told him to start moving the troops?

What was she gonan do?

If it really was her ice that was responsible for Hans' condition -and imminent death, though she preferred not to think about that- then did she even have a right to fight back? She was the one at fault, after all. Wouldn't it be the nobler thing to just allow them to take her? Let them march up to the gates and drag her out of the palace. Bring her back to the Southern Isles to stand trial for a crime she didn't even recall committing.

Anna could take care of things after she was gone. She would make a good Queen. She could marry Kristoff whom had a better grasp of the real world than her sweet but naive litter sister. Together they would make an excellent monarchal team. Arendelle would be fine with them. Arendelle would be fine without her.

The moment that Elsa came to this decision, standing to command someone to ready a ship for her to journey to the Southern Isles, the above mentioned Anna walked in. She took in the frosted walls, snow-covered floor, and iced over windows. "What happened this time?"

"You don't have to worry about it." Elsa promised. "I'll take care of it."

That sounded suspicious. Anna might be sheltered and naive, but she did a lot of growing in a very short time during the frozen summer. She learning to tell when someone wasn't telling her a whole truth. She crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet. "How? What are you planning."

"I'll leave Arendelle in your care." Replied the older woman, casually, as if it wasn't any big deal and Anna needn't wonder exactly _why_ the kingdom was being passed to her. "You don't need it, but have my blessing to marry Kristoff. Though, I still prefer you know him for a year before you do."

Now Anna was sure something was very, very wrong. "What's going on here? Marry Kristoff? Leave Arendelle to me? Why should you need to 'leave' Arendelle to me? Where are you going? Why are you leaving _now_!? With the Southern Isles breathing down our necks, now is the _worst_ time to go anywhere!" Anna crossed the room to grab her sister by the arms. "Arendelle needs its Snow Queen! Mother and Father were peace-loving monarchs. We don't have an army, Elsa! If the Isles do attack what have we got to defend our selves with? Y_ou!_ That's what. All we've got is you. You can create an army out of ice and snow. Make a million Marshmallows! Freeze the seas before their ships can even reach our harbor! Sink them with winds and icebergs! The only defense Arendelle has is you! You can't leave now!"

Elsa paused. She hadn't thought of that. While she was rather confident that surrendering herself to the Southern Isles King would prevent him from invading, what if it didn't? What if she turned herself in and then King WIllaham turned around and decided it was the perfect time for conquest -now that she was out of the way. Or maybe not the Isles, but another nation. Wesleton, maybe. The Duke was none to pleased when she placed the embargo on all trade with his country. If she turned herself into the Southerne Isles, then she would only be saving Arendelle from the Isles, not from any other nation that might covet their land, goods, or people. Alright. Anna made an excellent point. Elsa conceded, she would stay.

"Okay." She patted one of the younger woman's hands. "You're right. I wasn't thinking it through. I'll stay and build some defenses. Just one question, what good would an army of marshmallows be?"

"Oh, right!" Anna blinked, suddenly remembering. "You wouldn't know. 'Marshmallow' was the name we gave to that snow-ogre thing you made to chase us away from your ice fortress. I suppose you have a much more dramatic name for it."

The older woman shrugged. Truth be told, she never even thought about giving him a name. He wasn't a snowman like Olaf. Something created for fun, and play, and shared enjoyment. The snow-ogre had been a means to an end. Not a playmate. "Marshmallow sounds good to me."

…

Kristoff was an ice harvester. His place of work was up in the high mountains where there was snow year round, or in the frozen harbor in the winter. Either way, solid ground. The place he felt most comfortable was good, hard, immovable earth, or good, hard, solid ice. He did not feel comfortable on a bout, at sea.

But that was where he was at the moment. With Sven and Olaf, somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Bobbing with the current as Kristoff tried to negotiate the sail. He didn't know much about sailing or how it worked. He understood rowing. Rowing was easy. But he couldn't row their dingy all the way to the Southern Isles. At some point, he would need to unfurl the sail, learn how to duck under a boom without diving face first into the wooden deck, and sail the boat properly -as it was meant to be sailed.

But it did not seem that it was going to be this day. "How do people do this!?"

As he was fighting with the sail, a shadow fell over their dingy. Kristoff seemed not to notice it as he was rather consumed by his task. Olaf was the first one to give it any real sort of attention. Turning his frosty head to see what it was that was blocking out their sun. To his great surprise it was a ship. A much larger and more menacing vessel than their tiny dingy. It pulled up along side them, its wake causing them to rock violently on the water. Along its side in letters that had been weathered but retouched, and retouched several times over was the name of the ship.

The _Revenge_.

"Oh, wow…"

Had any of them been seafarers the name might had seemed familiar to them, even terrifying. But they were not. They were land-lovers through and through. And so did not realize that the ship that pulled up along side them was not the sort they wished to meat out in the middle of nowhere where no one could hear them scream.

Sven likewise gapped up at the ship along with Olaf and poked Kristoff in the back to draw his attention to it as well.

"Not now, Sven." The ice harvester growled into the sail.

The reighndeer poked him again. So did Olaf.

"What! What is it?" He snapped at both of them.

The question was not met with a reply. In answer, both snowman and reighndeer tilted their noses up towards the dark looming ship over them. Kristoff followed their gaze and gaped up at the ship. Kristoff read the name across the bow, but it held no significance to him.

"Ahoy port!" Someone shouted from the deck of the _Revenge_.

"Um… ahoy?" Kristoff called back, not really sure what the appropriate maritime etiquette was for this situation.

Someone leaned over the railing of the ship and peered down at them. "Oy! What we got here, eh?" He said with a thick accent Kristoff had never heard before. "Its a man an' a pony floatin' in a little dingy!"

"He's not a pony!" Kristoff shouted back up, glaring at the man. Honestly, Sven had antlers. What kind of pony had antlers? None! That's what kind. How stupid did a person have to be to think that Sven was a pony? Still, they must be more experienced in sailing than he was and might be able to take him to the Southern Isles. It would certainly save him having to figure out how to work a sail. "And I'm afraid we're a bit lost." He shouted back up. "I don't suppose your ship is heading anywhere near the Southern Isles?"

"Southern Isles?" The man shouted back, an ironic laugh in his voice. "Them's a bit _north_ of ya, mate. These be pirate waters!"

"Pirates?" He echoed, a small stone of dread sinking into his stomach. Hesitantly, almost nervously, he asked, "If these are pirate waters, what are you doing here?"

The man's only response was to grin evilly.

Several things then happened very quickly. Ropes were thrown over the side of the ship and before Kristoff could fully register them, men were repelling down onto their tiny dingy. Swords were drawn and placed at his throat. Sven shrieked a deep reindeer call and kicked a few of them. But the pirates subdued him with more ropes. All the wile, Olaf looked on in bemusement, clapping excitedly. He'd never been attacked by pirates before. It was a new experience for him.

It was a new experience for Krisfoff, too. He, however, did not find it quite so entertaining. "Let me go you… your brigands!"

"'Brignads'?" Repeated the one he's been speaking with before. "Flattery won't help you here, boyo. Do you know who we are?" Without waiting for an answer -Kristoff didn't know, anyway- the pirate spread his arms wide. "This is the Revenge, the most infamous pirate ship in all the seven seas! This, my unfortunate gravely, is the ship of the Dread Pirate Roberts."

"Never heard of him."

The ice harvester was dragged to the captain's quarters.

The captain, the Dread Pirate Roberts, was standing with his back to the door. Hands clasped behind his back, feet parted slightly, posture almost resembling a military 'parade rest'. If Kristoff didn't know any better, he'd have thought this pirate had formal training. But that was a silly idea, he was a pirate. Dirty shirt that might have at one time been white but was now an odd mottling of yellow, beige, and ivory. Loose fitting pants with vertical stripes. Bare feet. Of course, he lived on a boat, who needed shoes? Long, surprisingly well-kept auburn hair trailed down his back. That was all Kristoff saw of the Dread Pirate Roberts.

The door was closed behind him, making Kristoff jump slightly.

He wasn't quite sure what was suppose to happen now. Never having been captured by pirates before, Kristoff didn't have a guess as to what he was supposed to do. The room was filled with a pregnant pause.

"Ahem."

Prompted the Dread Pirate Roberts.

"Yes?" Asked Kristoff.

"This is where you are supposed to beg for your life." He supplied.

"Oh." Kristoff thought about that. It wasn't such a bad idea. After all, it was just him and Sven against a whole crew of pirates. Olaf wouldn't be any use in this situation, not that he was a particularly great fighter to begin with. Begging for his life did seem the wiser option, rather than fidgeting for freedom. But then, what would Roberts demand in return for his life? A lifetime of service (best case scenario)? That wouldn't do. He had to get to the Southern Isles and he needed to get there _soon_.

Roberts seemed genuinely surprised by his lack of terror. He turned around in disbelief. "Do you know who I am?"

"Hans!" Kristoff exclaimed upon seeing his face. Unbelievable! Prince Hans was supposed to be bed-ridden ill, on deaths door, suffering from a frozen heart (or something similar)! Not gallivanting around the seven seas making an arse of himself. Arendelle was in danger because of him! "_I'll kill you!_"

The ice harvester leapt at the Dread Pirate Roberts. The pirate's green eyes, eyes that were identical to Hans', widened in surprises -make that abject shock- and fell backwards just in time to dodge Kristoff's ballistic body. He collided with the opposite wall of the captain's quarters. Sitting on the floor, he blinked stars from his eyes and glared up at Hans' double.

"Well," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at Kristoff thoughtfully. "That was incredibly unexpected. I don't know who this 'Hans' is of which you speak, but he sounds like a thumb-sucking, entailed little prat, with an inferiority complex."

The ice harvester stared at him. Now that he was actually looking, Kristoff realized that this man was much to old to be Hans. Older, slightly more muscular, much, much more tanned, to much facial hair to have grown in the weeks since Elsa shipped him back to the Southern Isles. Okay, so he overreacted. This man was not Hans. But, dang! It he wasn't a darn close look-alike. If it weren't for the distance age difference between them, Kristoff would think they were twins. "You're not Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

The Dread Pirate Roberts laughed. "No."

"I have to get to the Southern Isles."

"Hm, to bad of you." Roberts picked at his cuticles. "Now, back to what we were doing before. I've got a reputation to uphold you know. Ahem. I've killed dozens of men. Why should I make an acceptation for you?"

Kristoff blinked, ignoring the quite obvious threat on his life. That question sounded a little fake -rehearsed. It conjured the image of Roberts in the mirror, asking his reflection, 'why should I make an exception for you?', 'why should you be an exception?', etc. It caused the ice harvester to raise a quizzical eyebrow. Okay, he could play along. "I'm on a very important mission. To stop a war before it begins."

"Hm. Well that's a new one. I'll give you that." Roberts nodded, as if silently commenting, 'not bad'. "And who's to be going to war with whom?"

"My home… and the Southern Isles." Kristoff explained, thinking of Anna and hoping she was safe. "You see, one of their Princes is sick and they think my Queen is responsible. I was on my way there to look at him and see if it really was her magic, or if she's been falsely accused. And to help, if I can."

For a moment, Kristoff thought he saw an expression flicker over Roberts' face. Something akin to concern, even worry. But it was there and gone again in an instant. So, it was casually, almost matter-of-factly that the pirate asked, "The Southern Isles has a dozen Princes. Why should they care if they loose one? Which one is it, by the way?"

"The youngest. Prince Hans." Kristoff answered.

That expression was back again. This time it lingered longer before Roberts was able to compose himself once again. "I see. Hm. That's… interesting. You've given me something to think on, stranger. What's your name?"

"Kristoff."

"Kris." Roberts nodded. "Alright, Kris, you'll be a guest on my ship for tonight. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

Kristoff ignored the fact that that line also sounded very rehearsed and instead directed his wonder to why -thought he seemed to be hiding it- a ruffian like him seemed to be so concerned over the health of a Prince?

...


	8. Armada

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or its related characters. Such is the property of Walt Disney Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures, Jennifer Lee, John Lasseter, and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson. I'm just borrowing it for some non-profit entertainment.

Cut From the Same

Chapter Eight: Armada

With the Southern Isles amassing their navy, it was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that war was brewing. It was the only neighborly thing for Wesleton to offer its assistance in the coming battle. After all, in this instance, they shared a common enemy.

The harbors of Insel, the capitol of the Southern Isles, were overflowing with battleships. Two-masted frigates, sleek arrow-like cruisers, large three-masted windjammers -innovative warships with hulls made from iron or steel. But the Duke's eyes only skated over the majority of the fleet. Instead his eyes focused on the monstrosity that was moored in the main harbor just below the palace. The _Dawn Crusher,_ the flagship of the fleet and main commanding vessel.

Unlike the windjammers which only had metal hulls while the rest was wood, the Dawn Crusher was forged completely out of iron and steel. No ship like it was ever seen before. Its idea was originally conceived and designed by its captain and commanding War Minister of the Southern Isles military, Prince Morgan. A one-hundred and twenty gun dreadnought, the variety of fund ranging from the traditional maritime cannon, to miniature versions of archaic catapults which launched bombs of fire, and everything in between. The Duke had never seen it in action himself, but it was said that wherever the chip passed, the seas were writhed in tongues of flame and fire fell from the sky.

Such fanciful notions were cute, in the Duke's opinion. The seas catching flame was most likely to to some sort of oil spillage from the ship. He had heard that it did not sail as the rest of the fleet did, but rather ran off steam power. The fire falling from the sky, was obviously the catapults shooting their bombs. Honestly, people came up with the most fanciful stories and ignored the obvious explanations some times.

The Duke's ship pulled into port right next to the ironclad monstrosity that was the _Dawn Crusher_. His little schooner was dwarfed by its shadow. The Duke's party was met upon disembarking by a tense looking man with a ledger and several rolled-up maps under one arm. His face shared just enough features in common with Prince Hans for the Duke to recognize him as one of the poor pawn's brothers.

Offering a sympathetic smile, the Duke extended his hand in greeting. "Prince Morgan of the Southern Isles, I presume? I'm the Duke of Weslton. I true pleasure in meeting you."

The man took the Duke's offered had, but let go almost immediately without shaking it. "Sorry to disappoint you, Your Grace, but my brother is not in the best of sorts at the moment and has retired to plan our attack in private. But don't worry, he should return before the fleet sets sail. I'm Prince Kurtz, Minister of Foreign Affairs and I'll be showing your liaison for the time being."

The Duke raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Liaison, that seems like a mineral task for someone of your station, Your Highness."

Kurtz sighed. "Yes. But it gives me something to do. To take my mind off… things. Shall we go?"

"Of course." The Duke nodded.

Of course Prince Kurtz, and all the Princes of the Southern Isles would be preoccupied and worrisome over their brother's condition. Keeping busy was the best way for them to work through their anxiety. That was fine. It served the Duke's purposes just as well.

…

Two-dozen Marshmallows roared impressively, startling the palace staff, making maids and butlers jump and drop trays, polishing cloths, or papers.

Anna clapped happily. It was nice seeing Marshmallow (and his brothers) march and roar when she was _not_ the extended target of their ferocity. She stood in the courtyard, watching her older sister construct snow ogre after snow ogre. Starting with one, then making three, then six, then twelve, then twenty-four. Soon the whole courtyard was full of the fluffy white monsters.

"This is great, Elsa!" Anna smiled, beaming at the crowd of monsters that had once chased her and Kristoff off a cliff. Marshmallow was far less intimidating in the summer sun. "Fire magic or not fire magic, Morgan doesn't stand a chance against you!"

Elsa, whom was smiling and cheerful as she created her army of ice constructs, turned to look at her sister, her smile fading and her light easy mood, melting away. She didn't want to be reminded that she was creating this army of constructs, not as an exercise in control of her powers in public, but rather because her country was being threatened by a larger nation with a bigger, better trained, and more experienced army. Never mind that said nation was blaming her for something Elsa was fairly certain she didn't do, and that the leader of this threat was a person Elsa thought was going to be her friend.

Straitening her back stiffly and folding her hands in front of her modestly, Elsa shook her head. "Don't be to over confident, Anna. Morgan never showed us all he was capable of, we didn't have time. And don't forget, he had a mentor to teach him how to use his powers, that's something I never had. I don't know how to prepare for what I don't know."

Anna's smile also fell at her sister's sober reminder. She thought of Kristoff, off on his self-appointed fool's errand. To look at Hans and assess his condition. Whether or not it really was a frozen heart, or if Elsa was falsely accused. She worried over him. Wondering where he was. Did he make it to the Southern Isles safely? Did his boat sink? Anna didn't think he knew anything about sailing. If he did get to the Isles and it turned out Elsa was responsible for Hans' condition, would they kill him? Would Morgan burn him to a crisp on the spot? Or keep him as a hostage to use against them in the coming battle? Just like Elsa, Anna didn't know how to prepare for not knowing.

Still, if her experience with her own frozen heart and the Frozen Summer taught her anything, it was optimism. (Though, admittedly, she was already very optimistic to begin with.) She was confident everything would turn out okay in the end. Anna placed her hands on her sister's shoulders. "Then we just prepare for everything."

Elsa paused for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. We've got our ground troops. But the Isles have a huge navy. We'll need ships and there isn't time to commission and build any."

"Ice bergs." Anna smiled, as if this answer should have been obvious. "And storms. Wind, and snow, and sleet. And freeze the oceans so their ships can't move. Whether Morgan is better trained in his magic or not, you can fight him and you can win."

Elsa smiled back. Anna's confidence was infectious. "You're right. We'll be prepared."

Anna nodded, glad that her sister was once again feeling confident. She buried her worry over Kristoff under her desire to encourage Elsa, diverted her attention to helping to protect their home and tried her best not to worry about the ice cutter she was rather confident she was in love with.

…

Kristoff did not find sleep easily. It wasn't because of Roberts' threat to kill him when he awoke that kept him up all night. He didn't really think the pirate meant it. Niether was it the fact that it seemed like he was now delayed in his mission and that any moment now Arendelle and Anna could be besieged by the Southern Isles forces. While that thought did plauge his nightmares, it did not prevent him from sleeping. The thing that kept him up all night was the constant rocking of the ship as it cut the waves. Kristoff was a land-lover, through and through. He was most comfortable in the mountains with good, solid earth underneath him. He did not find sleep easily rocking back and forth in the water.

When sleep finally did find him, it seemed like his eyes were shut only moments before he was rudely woken again by something heavy, hard and very very cold jumping onto his stomach.

Kristoff started and tumbled out of the hammock assigned as his bunk, the heavy cold thing tumbling out with him. He growled several rude words under his breath and brushed his unmanly blond hair out of his eyes to see he was now surrounded by the three snowballs making up Olaf's frosty body. The head of the snowman lay on its side on the deck next to him, smiling with excitement to spite his current dismembered state.

"Well, its about time you woke up!" Huffed the snow construct.

"Wha…?" Kristoff blinked confused, bleary eyes at the snowman as he massaged his should which he was unfortunate enough to land on. "What's going on?"

The snowball that made-up Olaf's torso flailed its twig-like arms until it managed to grab its posterior, then his legs, then, finally, he picked up his head and replaced it on his shoulders. Once again in one piece, Olaf grabbed Kristoff by the hand and attempted to pull him towards the stairs leading above deck. "C'mon! C'mon! Roberts has something he wants to show us!"

Groaning, the ice cutter pulled himself to his feet and staggered out onto the deck. What he saw outside made him freeze in his tracks. They were anchored within a narrow inlet, the _Revenge_ mostly concealed by a tall outcropping of rock. To someone looking from the other side, they should only be able to see the masts and the ship's furled sails. But from where he stood on deck, just barely able to see over the outcropping of rock, Kristoff saw a foreign harbor filled with menacing looking war ships. "Wh-where are we?"

In answer, Roberts hopped down from the main mast where he had been watching from the crow's nest, his telescope still extended in his hand. "Insel, capitol of the Southern Isles." He said, as if this should have been obvious. "You said you had to get to the Southern Isles, so here we are."

Perhaps if Kristoff weren't face to face with the military monster that was now threatening his home, country, and woman he loved, he would have taken the time to wonder why a lawless pirate was helping him. As it was, staring at the military might of the Isles, all he could think about was Anna and how in the world was Elsa going to combat this monstrosity and protect her? All he could say was, "They look ready to go."

"They're not." Roberts shook his head, offering what might have been a reassuring smile.

"How can you know?"

The pirate patted him on the shoulder then turned him around to face the opposite direction. Behind them it was harder to see around the ship's hiding place, so Roberts waled them around to almost hand off the bow of the ship. He passed his telescope to Kristoff and pointed where he should look. "Do you see there? That smoke rising over the water. That's Brand Peak, the volcano of Feure Island. When smoke rises from the mountain it means the Fire Prince of the Southern Isles is home. He's the Isles military commander. The fleet won't sail without him. As long as that island is on fire, your home is safe."

This news comforted the ice cutter. In fact, it eased his might just enough for the rest of his brain to pick up on what Roberts was actually saying and realize that- _hold on a minute!_ "How in the world do you know so much about the Isles and its Princes?"

An absurd idea began to form in Kristoff's mind. It was an utterly absurd idea, to be sure. But how else in the world could Roberts know about Morgan's fire magic? Plus, he did share an awfully close resemblance to Hans. So much so, that Kristoff originally thought he _was_ the two-faced Prince upon first seeing him. Some sort of family relation, perhaps? Another nobleman who couldn't have a kingdom of his own, only rather than try and seduce or steal a kingdom for himself, he went in the complete opposite direction and became a countryless ne'er do-well cad. Exactly the same as Hans, yet also the exact opposite of Hans.

Roberts smiled a joker-smile but only said, "That. Is an excellent question."

He collapsed his telescope and tossed it to Olaf whom caught it was enthusiasm. Somewhere between waking Kristoff up and now he had found himself an eyepatch and a bandanna. Now holding Roberts' telescope, he hopped up onto of Sven's head, nestling between his antlers and began playing pirate. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. So much for the Princess Protection Detail.

"Hans is not here." Roberts continued, pointedly _not_ answering Kristoff's question. "I sent men up to the palace while you were enjoying your beauty sleep. Apparently, even during his illness, the youngest Prince is being kept at the place of his house arrest on Freyja Island. That is where we're going next. And you will tell me whether or not your Queen is truly responsible for his condition or not."

He turned to walk away, then paused to add, "I should warn you, Kris, if it does turn out that your Queen is responsible, it will not end well for her. The brothers of the Southern Isles all thirteen of them- have a very strict law -though you'll never find it written down anywhere. They can beat, hurt, or cheat each other as much as they want, but no one else is allowed to. Sort of a 'nobody hurts my baby-brother but me' type deal. Do you have siblings?"

"No." Kristoff shook his head. "But my Queen does. A sister."

"Then you won't understand, but she will. If she is responsible, it will not end well for her."

…

Morgan did not want to go to war with Arendelle. For many reasons. Reason number one, and the most important reason in his mind was that Hans' condition wasn't very positive and Morgan did not want to be far from home if (when) his brother finally passed. It was a thought he didn't want to think about, but it was a real possibility.

The second reason being, he didn't fully trust Wesleton or their chosen representative, the Duke. Kurtz received a full narrative of the events in Arendelle when Hans was first returned to them. So, Morgan was fully aware of the Duke's views on magic and magic persons. If he was coming to war with them, then he would certainly find out about Morgan's abilities -most likely by witnessing them first hand. No doubt, the Duke would react adversely to his magic, just as he had to Elsa's magic. Morgan didn't want to have to switch from fighting one war, to fighting two just because the Duke soiled himself over a little light show.

Thirdly, …thirdly, Morgan didn't actually want to go to war with Elsa. He liked her. He thought she was a nice woman, inexperienced in the world, but calm and patient, willing to leave her gates open and learn -to see what the world had to offer. He thought about her clear, light laugh and how excited she was when he revealed his magic to her. If they had, had more time together, Morgan was sure they could have become great friends. It would be nice to have another friend like himself again. One of his own kind.

But, sadly, events conspired against their friendship. Even if Elsa froze Hans' heart by accident and hadn't meant to, that still didn't change the fact that she froze his heart, and if Hans died then she would have murdered a Prince of the Southern Isles. It would have been self-defense, yes. Hans tried to kill her first. But a Prince would still be dead and she would be the one to make him that way. Something like that couldn't be excused. Arendelle and its Snow Queen would have to be held accountable.

Morgan kept reminding himself of this fact as he buttoned the collar of his uniform. He hadn't worn an actual uniform in a very long time, usually when going to war he was clad in his 'fire prince' costume. But with the Duke accompanying them aboard the _Dawn Crusher_, that was something he couldn't do. He would have to try his best to control the fire raging through him -a difficult feat considering the emotional strain he was under. Little brother dying. A woman he didn't want to fight being blamed for it. His armies sailing for her shores to lay waste to a humble and peaceful kingdom.

But, he reminded himself, his mentor taught him to channel his feelings. Don't try to control them or suppress them. It was impossible not to feel anything and concealing them only added to the tension -it just fed them. Instead use it. Use your feeling. Focus them on a goal, channel them into achieving what needs to be done.

What needed to be done?

At this exact moment, he had to put on a smile shake hands with the Duke.

Morgan took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The _Dawn Crusher_ was already ready to set sail and the Duke was waiting for him on deck. Morgan did not smile when he greeted the man, not even an attempted fake smile. He had no desire to befriend the man, nor did the occasion call for a smile. Instead, offered a polite nod of acknowledgement. "Duke. I understand that you'll be joining us on this venture."

The Duke bowed, as was appropriate for his station, he was just a visiting nobleman while Morgan was a Prince. "Yes, Your Highness, I've brought sixty ships to add to your fighting force. Though, they all pale in comparison to this… beauty."

He waved his arms wide to indicate the ironclad deck of the _Dawn Crusher_. It was the only ship of its kind and so, of course, the Duke wouldn't have seen anything like it before. It was Morgan's own little brain-child. Since he got real tired real quick of catching his own decks on fire and burning his own ships down to the water line when he got worked up. The ironclad Dawn Crusher was the solution to that problem. A ship made of metal instead of wood. A ship that would not burn. To heavy to be propelled by sails, the Dawn Crusher was steam-powered -another feature that catered to his fire abilities.

To spite his dislike of the man and his anxiety over the situation with Hans and Elsa, Morgan found himself smiling. People called his ship many things, but 'beauty' was rarely one of them. "Thank you, Your Grace. She's one of a kind."

She was one of a kind… like Elsa…

...


End file.
